Not with a Fizzle, but with a Bang
by somebodyfeedthesebirds
Summary: After encountering a suspect with a stun grenade, Castle is left temporarily blind. Beckett, feeling guilty about the accident, offers to take care of him. A Season 3 story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, everyone! I've been reading fanfiction for years, but this is my first foray into writing it. Please be honest with your comments, because I want to improve my writing as much as I can. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

Story: After encountering a suspect with a stun grenade, Castle is left temporarily blind. Beckett, feeling guilty about the accident, offers to take care of him. (Set mid season three. Josh is still in the picture.)

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Castle.

Chapter 1

She rubs her temples and lets out her third sigh in the last two minutes. However, the object of her frustration appears to be oblivious to her mood. After running out of paperclips to add to his record-breaking paperclip chain, Castle found a new, more annoying project. He has been using her skittles and empty coffee mug as his own personal basketball court for the last thirty minutes.

"Kobe!" Castle yells as a red skittle flies through the air towards her favorite NYPD mug. It swirls around the rim a bit before falling in. Castle mimics a crowd cheering. "I told you it works if you say an NBA player's name!"

"Castle, focus," she says with a glare.

"I'm trying, but I'm so bored," he whines. "Why are his financials taking so long?" Beckett pinches the bridge of her nose, hoping to alleviate her headache. It's not his fault really.

His daughter is going on college visits with his mother for the next week. In Europe. He glosses it over with jokes and self-deprecation, but in the quiet moments she knows how much it pains Castle to imagine his daughter going to school half a world away.

As much as she's loath to admit it, Castle has grown on her. Despite his annoyingly childish tendencies, he really does make her days more fun. It might just be her, but she thinks they have been growing closer ever since 3XK and the kiss she won't let herself think about.

He's less quick to tease, replacing his humor with genuine concern when her frustrations start to boil over. He orders food when she has forgotten to eat, and somehow he always knows what she's craving. And of course, he brings her coffee every morning.

Behind his playboy façade, there is a good man and a good father. She's mature enough to admit at least that. She can't imagine why his ex-wives divorced him. If he were her husband-

Wait, what? No, she's not thinking about what it would be like if Richard Castle were her husband. No way. She's delusional. It must be this headache. Yes, it's the headache, and she's getting a little hungry. Yeah. That's it.

Plus, this case has been a doozy.

Their vic was found nearly a week after he was murdered, and aside from the gruesome crime scene, it appears that the Jack Wheatley had many enemies. Thanks to his questionable past, most of them had the means and motive to kill him. They had been digging through the criminal records of Jack's previous associates all day, but each one led to a dead end.

It had been Castle's idea to look into the coworker.

"Alright, Sam Dalton, 41. His wife's name is Laurie Dalton, works as a grade school teacher. They have one son. Looks like home address is in Danbury, Connecticut," Ryan reads.

"Danbury? What is he doing working a job in the city?"

"Don't know. My guess is more money," Ryan shrugs. "But, according to our records, he has a small apartment of his own on 54th. He started working at Seigal and Co. six months ago."

"Which is the same time Jack's other coworkers noticed him acting strangely," Castle adds.

Jack was quite the workaholic, so when he began leaving early every Tuesday and Thursday, his coworkers were the first to notice. His best friend overheard him talking on the phone with a lawyer once, but Jack ended the call before he could find out why. His secretary said that she caught him working on something personal a few times. When she would enter his office, he would quickly cover the papers or stuff them in an open drawer. The weirdest part was his request to transfer to another project.

"Don't you see, Beckett?" Castle began. "It's Sam Dalton! He joined the company almost the same time that Jack started leaving early and meeting with a lawyer. He even asked for a transfer to get away from him!"

"That could just be a coincidence. What's his motive?" She asks. "The two didn't even know each other."

"Or did they?" His eyes widen. "Maybe Sam was a ghost from Jack's past. Maybe he was a fellow foster kid that Jack beat up, or Jack got him into drugs and ruined his life. Maybe he mugged him on the street once!"

"And fifteen years later, Sam manages to find him, get placed in the cubicle across from his office in the same company, _and_ murders him with a military grade knife even though he has no record of service." She says sarcastically.

"Yeah!"

"No!" Beckett chuckles. "Besides, if Sam were from Jack's past, why would Jack need a lawyer? Any petty crime he committed then would be at least ten years past the statute of limitations."

"Okay, fine. It's possible they didn't have a first degree connection." Castle's eyebrows furrow in thought. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. "Maybe Sam was the friend of someone from Jack's past, and that friend is paying him to spy on Jack. Clearly he needed the money!"

Beckett rolls her eyes. It certainly isn't the most well thought out plan, but it's the only theory they've got to go on. Which leaves them here, waiting on financials.

"Yo, Beckett." She looks up to find a very smug Javier Esposito. "Check it. Your boy was not receiving any payments regularly."

"What? I was so sure of it," Castle whines.

"Hold up. I'm not finished," Esposito says. "While Dalton did not receive any money over the last six months, he was paying three hundred bucks a month for the last six months to an Elliot Lang."

Beckett stares at Esposito as Castle stares at her. "Alright, I'll bite. Who's Elliot Lang?"

"Elliot Lang is Dalton's cousin. He's a former first lieutenant of the US Army. Did three tours in Iraq. _And_ since he's returned stateside, he's had a little trouble with the law. He's been arrested for two A and Bs, one drunk and disorderly, and one count of breaking and entering."

"Looks like he went for the Trifecta," Castle quips.

"Alright, so he was receiving some money every month from Dalton, that doesn't mean it was payment for spying on Wheatley," Beckett says.

"He also received three nine thousand dollar payments from one Sam Dalton the day after Jack was killed," Ryan adds.

"I knew it!"

"Not so fast, Castle. The money is suspicious, but it still doesn't connect Dalton to our vic," Beckett says. "We gotta talk to Sam Dalton."

"You want me to pick him up?" Esposito asks.

She looks on in thought. "No. I don't want to spook him."

"Well, I guess this calls for a home visit," says Castle.

"The secretary said Dalton called in sick today," Esposito explains as they ride the elevator to the sixth floor. "Yeah, sick with guilt," Castle adds. Esposito touches his nose in agreement.

They're walking along the hallway looking for Dalton's apartment when Castle notices an old woman peering out from behind an apartment door. He stops to speak with her as the three cops continue down the hall. Ryan sends a questioning look to Beckett, but she just motions them forward.

When they arrive at Dalton's place, they immediately notice the door is slightly ajar. Ryan peaks in and nods to Beckett. She slowly opens the door while Ryan and Esposito draw their weapons and enter.

The place has been trashed. The coffee table is flipped over, and glass from the tabletop litters the ground. The cheap dining room chairs are sideways on the floor, and a picture frame on the wall is cracked but still hanging.

"Mr. Dalton, NYPD!" Beckett calls into the apartment, while gesturing to Ryan and Esposito to start clearing the apartment. Suddenly, a canister rolls into the living room, crunching over the broken glass. "Flash bang," Beckett whispers while Esposito screams, "Down!"

They duck for cover as Castle runs into the room. "Guys! I was just talking to Mrs. Sanchez from down the hall, and she said–" The flash bang goes off. The last thing Castle sees is Beckett reaching for him and yelling something, presumably his name but he can't hear a thing over this ringing in his ears. The ground is coming at him. Then darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First and foremost, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, favorited, etc. I really didn't think that my first story would get very much traffic, so I really appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it (especially with the amount of new stories updated on CastleFanFicMonday).

That being said, I think I'm going to update this story every Wednesday, so Monday's chapter was a lil bonus or something.

Also, sorry if there were any formatting issues in the last chapter (I know there was at least one section separation thingy that did not show up). I'm still learning the wild wild west of fanfiction formatting, so bear with me.

Hope you enjoy chapter 2!

Chapter 2

He wakes to a muffled ringing sound. At least he thinks he's awake. Everything is dark, so he could still be unconscious. Oh, maybe he's lucid dreaming. That could be fun. His ears clear a bit and he realizes the sound he hears is not ringing. It's beeping. He's awake and apparently in the hospital.

He takes inventory of the rest of his body. His head aches and feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, there is a burning sensation on his left arm, and his ankle twinges a bit, but otherwise no serious damage. His right hand is warm, pleasantly so, and he realizes that someone is holding his hand.

He groans a bit as he stretches, and the hand leaves his.

"Castle?"

"Beckett, is that you?"

She grabs his hand again and squeezes lightly. "Yeah, it's me. How're you feeling?"

"Like someone used my head for batting practice. What happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Her hand moves up a little to his forearm.

"I remember ending my conversation with Mrs. Sanchez to see you guys were gone. I ran to Dalton's apartment to tell you something and then…" He trails off, wracking his brain to remember what happened after that. "Nothing."

She squeezes his forearm in support. "Dalton was in the apartment. We hadn't had a chance to clear it before he was tossing a flash bang into the living room. We ducked for cover, but you walked in right as it blew."

She watches him touch the bandages over his eyes. "You tried to cover your eyes with your arm, but you weren't quick enough." He feels her touch the bandage on his forearm where it stings. "You were burnt a little here, but it should heal with minimal scarring."

"And my eyes?"

She sighs. "We thought it was a standard police issue stun grenade, but it wasn't. It was special military grade, much stronger than anything we would use. You were looking right at it when it went off."

She squeezes his arm again, and he moves his free hand and places it over hers on his arm. "Go on."

She lets out a deep breath, almost a whimper. "After it went off, you fell and knocked your temple into the table in the entryway." She leans up and lightly brushes her fingers over the nasty stitches on his temple.

"So that's why the massive headache," he jokes in an effort to ease the tension in the room. She doesn't laugh.

"Castle," she says with a grave tone.

"Sorry, go on," he says, tone mirroring hers. She pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath.

"Normally, a flash bang would render you blind for around five seconds. Seeing as this was military grade and you were in close proximity to it, it could last for hours, maybe even a day."

"That's not so bad. I can go without my sight for a little while. I'll brush up on my classical music. Experience it like I've never experienced it before," he smiles at her. Or at least he thinks he did. He can't be sure.

She huffs out a breath, and he hears the tears in it. "When you hit your temple, it caused a small bleed in your brain. The doctors were able to get it, but they said it caused some damage to your optic nerve."

Castle lets out an equally shaky breath. "Okay. So what does that mean for me?"

"The doctor says that it's possible you may never fully regain your sight. They'll know more when the swelling goes down." He feels a tear drop onto his arm next to where her hand is. "I'm so sorry, Castle. I'm so sorry." She's definitely crying now, and despite his initial panic over his situation, his first thought is to comfort her.

He tugs on her arm, but she stays put. He tugs again. "Beckett, come on. How am I supposed to comfort you if I don't know where you are?" She allows him to pull her up onto the hospital bed, and she lays her head on his chest.

"That's better," he says as his rubs his hand up and down her arm. He can still feel her tears leaking through his hospital gown, but he can't find it in himself to care. She sinks into him for a moment and heaves a sigh of relief. He's talking and annoying her, both good signs. When she realizes her current situation, she tenses and sits up.

"Oh my god, Castle. What am I doing? You might never see again. I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around." He tugs her back down to her previous position.

"Oh, I feel very comforted. Just like this," he says as he wraps his arm around her waist. She lets out a watery laugh.

"If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Castle, you're using your injury as an excuse to cuddle," she says, laughter woven into every word.

"If pity is the only way I can get you to hug me, then yes. This is a pity cuddle, and I'm not ashamed to say it."

She laughs into his chest, her breath sending shockwaves from his toes to his still throbbing head. They lay in silence for a while, contemplating everything that was going to change now. She was half asleep when he spoke again.

"So, what's going to happen with the case?" His voice rouses her enough for her to respond.

"Ryan and Esposito were able to jump clear and cover themselves as best they could. By the time we recovered, Dalton had climbed out the fire escape and was gone. They found Elliot Lang lying unconscious on the floor with a bullet in his shoulder. He's going to live. Hopefully when he wakes up, he can tell us what the hell is going on."

Castle makes a small noise of eagerness. "Oh, that's what I was going to tell you! Mrs. Sanchez said that she overheard Sam and a man yelling. The man was telling Sam that he didn't want to be involved anymore, and that he was giving back the money and turning himself in. She didn't hear any more because they had turned the corner, but when I showed her a picture of Lang, she positively identified him as the man Sam was talking to."

Castle hears a tapping noise coming from near his stomach. "Thanks, Castle. I sent the message to Esposito. Maybe they can find out what they were talking about and if it had anything to do with Jack Wheatley."

Castle gives a proud, boyish smile, and she hugs him tighter for it. "So, what happens now?"

"Well, Ryan and Espo are at the precinct tracking Dalton down now. They put out an APB on him, so he'll turn up eventually."

"Good," he replies. Despite his positive response, he's still tense.

"Castle, do you want to talk about it?" She asks quietly.

"I have a feeling that's all I'll be doing for a while, so no thanks. Don't you need to get back to the precinct?"

She knows he is avoiding the topic - she can't imagine him willingly sending her away in any circumstance - but she answers him anyway. "No, Castle. Montgomery told me to take the rest of today and tomorrow off."

Castle's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "And you let him? That doesn't seem like the Beckett I know," he says as he runs his free hand across the arm lying across his chest. When he reaches her forearm, he notices a bandage and a soft cast. "Were you hurt?"

"Just a burn and a broken arm. I wasn't very balanced after the blast, and I fell a bit before I could reach you. I was so scared, Castle." Her last words were slurred a bit, the events of the day finally taking a toll on her. She must be exhausted if Kate Beckett is admitting that she was scared and _for him._

He runs his hand back and forth along her forearm. It's hypnotic. He hears Beckett's breathing even out, and he tries not to think about an unsteady Beckett hurting herself in an attempt to get to him. He tries not to think about what it means for them, what her laying next to him now means for their relationship even though she's still with another man. And the worst thought of all: what's going to happen now that he may never regain his sight?

Despite the turmoil running through his mind, his body is still exhausted, and he falls into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: My goodness! Thank you again to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed etc! I'm having a really great time writing this story, so I'm glad that you are enjoying it. I would love to hear if there is anywhere I need to improve or if there is something you guys are looking for that I'm not adding. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 3

She's jolted awake by the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She just barely manages to get to a seated position before Martha and Alexis come rushing in. Martha runs to hug Kate while Alexis walks to her father's bedside.

"Oh, Kate. Are you all right?" Martha inspects her arm and the small burn on her face.

"I'm okay. Thank you, Martha." She awkwardly slides off of the bed and stands to the side. Martha gives her a knowing look, and she blushes.

"Mother, to what do I owe the wake up call?" Castle groans. Beckett grabs a chair from the other side of the room and sets it against the wall, far away from the bed.

"Oh, Richard. Honestly. We had to wait and hear from Detective Esposito that you were in the hospital, and we were worried."

Beckett blanches. Damn it. She should've called his family. She got so caught up in her own worry that she wasn't even thinking. "Martha, I'm sorry. I should have—"

"Nonsense, darling. You had your own injuries to take care of."

"Well, I'm sorry, Mother. I would have called, but I can't seem to find my phone right now," he chuckles at his own joke. Martha gives him a slap to the shoulder for that and sits down in the chair next to his bed.

"Dad?" Alexis's voice rings out beside him. She sounds so small, and he immediately feels bad for the joke. He turns to where he assumes Alexis is by her voice, and she grabs his hand.

"Hey, pumpkin. I'm okay."

"You're in the hospital."

"Yeah, but I'm fine." He tugs on her arm to pull her closer, but she resists.

"Fine? Seriously? The doctor says you might never see again. You could be blind forever, Dad. That is not fine," Alexis huffs, and he tugs harder until he has his arm around her in a hug. She turns her face into his chest and sniffles.

"Don't worry, Alexis. Everything is going to be okay. It's probably only temporary. You'll see." She nods her head against his chest, and he holds her tighter. Whatever pain this causes him, whatever frustrations he may have with it, he knows now that he can't let his daughter catch on to it. No teenager should ever have to stress about her parent as much as Alexis seems to.

"We've decided to cancel the trip," she mumbles into his chest.

"What? No. You've been looking forward to this trip for months."

"Richard, you can't expect us to leave you alone like this. How will you take care of yourself?" his mother adds.

"I can do it." Two heads swivel to look at Beckett, who has been suspiciously silent up until now.

"No, dear. We couldn't ask you to do that."

"Kate, you don't have to—" Castle interjects.

"It's okay. I've been given some time off, so I don't have to be at work. You should go on your trip," she says with an attempt at a smile.

Martha looks back to Castle for his opinion, almost forgetting that he can't see her. Then she glances to Alexis who gives her a grave look back. Alexis turns to Beckett who is staring at Castle with guilt, nerves, and a tiny glimmer of what she could be mistaking as love.

"All right, well. That settles it then, I suppose. We won't cancel our tickets."

Alexis whips her head to her grandmother in shock. "What—"

"It's all right, Alexis. I'm sure Detective Beckett will take good care of your father. She might be the only person who can stand him when he's sick."

"Hey! I'm the perfect patient." Martha gives him a face.

"I saw that," he quips. Alexis smacks his shoulder. "Dad," she admonishes.

"Well, I don't know about you three, but I'm positively starving. Let's see if this hospital will let you eat some real food instead of the drivel they serve here." And with that, she flits out of the room in a way only hurricane Martha can.

Beckett sits silently, looking at her feet while Alexis and Castle share quiet words on the other side of the room. Suddenly, she needs to be anywhere but here. She stands abruptly, the chair making a scraping sound on the floor that she feels in her bones. With a quiet "Be right back", she's gone.

She heads to the first women's bathroom that she sees and bursts through the door, breathing a sigh of relief that it is empty. She examines herself in the mirror for a moment. The burn on her cheek is not so bad. It shouldn't leave a scar. She looks at the hollowness of her cheeks, the bags under her eyes, and for a moment she wonders if all of the times she chose to work late instead of going home and relaxing were worth it.

Then it hits her. Castle may never get to look at himself in the mirror again.

Her heart starts beating out of her chest, and she frantically turns the tap on, splashing a bit of water on her face before sitting down on the floor with her head between her legs. That's where Martha finds her ten minutes later.

She doesn't notice the older woman's presence until she feels a soft hand on her shoulder. She looks up with red-rimmed eyes and blushes for what feels like the hundredth time that evening.

"Richard told me you stepped out. I thought maybe I'd find you here."

Kate nods and swallows a bit before speaking. "I just needed some air." There is silence for a moment. "I'm so sorry, Martha. This is all my fault."

Hearing the words out loud sends her into another wave of tears. She puts her head back between her knees. Martha hesitates for a moment, and then slowly sits down beside Beckett. "Now why on earth would you say that?"

"Because, I wasn't watching him. I wasn't paying attention, and now he may never see again."

"Kate, I know I wasn't there, but I know Richard well enough to know that he definitely had his part to play in this whole mess."

"But he's my responsibility. I should have considered that our suspect could be dangerous. If I were a better cop, I would have been prepared for it. But, I wasn't." She lays her hands on her knees and cradles her head in them.

Martha slowly wraps her arm around Kate, and she leans into the touch. "Kate Beckett, you listen to me. This is not your fault. From what Richard has told me, you are one of the finest cops in this city, and I will not let you blame yourself for this. Accidents happen, and we just have to stick together and get through it."

Kate looks up at her with teary eyes. Martha takes her thumb, and with motherly affection that Beckett hasn't experienced in twelve years, wipes her tears away. "No one blames you for this, dear."

"Alexis does," she whispers.

"Oh, kiddo. As much as my granddaughter is mature beyond her years, she is still a teenager, and there are some things that she just cannot understand. What you and my son share, whether or not you're willing to see it, is special. Alexis just needs some time to understand that."

Kate doesn't respond, her mind swirling with thoughts. They sit for a moment, Martha's arm around her with Kate's head leaning lightly on her shoulder. Kate's stomach growls and breaks the silence. The two share a quiet laugh.

"I knew I wasn't the only one. Come on. Let's get you some food." Kate gets up and holds out her hands to Martha who gratefully takes them. With a slight groan and Kate's help, Martha is standing on her feet again. "Oof, these old bones just can't do what they used to."

There is more silence for a moment, and Martha waits for Kate to say whatever is on her mind. She ends up muttering a quiet but sincere, "Thank you, Martha." Martha smiles at her and tugs her out of the bathroom.

…

Later, after they've all had their fill of Thai food, Martha stands and stretches.

"Alright, kiddo. I think it's time for us to leave you be," Martha says as she pats him on the hand and stands up.

"What? Come on, the party is just getting started," Castle whines.

"She's right, Dad. You should get some sleep." Alexis kisses him on the cheek and joins his mother at the door. "We'll be here tomorrow to get you before our plane leaves."

Beckett stands awkwardly at the end of the bed.

"Come on, Alexis. Let's give these two some privacy." Martha ushers her granddaughter out the door.

After the door closes, there is silence. "Sorry, my mother isn't the most tactful person."

She chuckles, "It's fine." She walks over and takes his hand.

"Will you be here tomorrow, too?" He squeezes her hand hopefully. She removes her hand from his, and his heart sinks. This is where she tells him he's finished. That he can't shadow her anymore. That they can't see each other anymore. He scoffs internally. That would be true on multiple levels.

He's so distracted by his own thoughts that he jumps when he feels her lips on his cheek and her hand on his chin.

"Yeah, Castle. I'll be here." She pats him on the arm one last time before heading for the door. She leaves with a quiet, "Bye." He hears the door close before he snaps out of it.

"Bye," he whispers back.

…

When Beckett exits the room, she is surprised to find Martha and Alexis waiting for her. Alexis refuses to meet her eyes.

"Dear, Alexis and I were talking, and we think you should stay with us tonight. It's late, you're hurt, and we all have to be back bright and early tomorrow anyhow."

Beckett looks to Alexis to see if she is comfortable with Martha's plan, but the girl still won't look her in the eye. That's proof enough. "Martha, I don't think—"

"Nonsense." Martha levels her with a look and she nods, if just to avoid making a scene in the hospital hallway. "It's settled. Come along, Kate."

They take a cab to her apartment, and she grabs some clothes and stuffs them in an overnight bag. The ride back to the loft is silent. Alexis immediately runs to her room when they arrive, and Kate stands in the living room, beginning to regret her decision.

"You remember where the guest room is, don't you? Unless you'd like to sleep in Richard's bed," Martha says with a wink. Kate can't meet Martha's eyes when she responds, "No, Martha. The guest room is fine with me."

"Suit yourself, dear. Goodnight," she says, giving Kate a strong hug. "Goodnight, Martha."

Kate walks up the stairs to the guest room, reminiscing on the last time she had been here. She almost wishes she were here under the same circumstances, rather than because Castle had been injured.

Well, no. She'd rather be here under very different circumstances, and in those circumstances she _would_ be sleeping in Castle's bed. There's no way that she would admit to Martha that she couldn't imagine sleeping in Castle's bed without him. That night, she falls asleep in Castle's guest room dreaming of a world where she and Castle could be together without walls or boyfriends or ex-wives to get in the way.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Once again, thank you for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting. I've had such an overwhelming response to this story, so I really mean it when I say thank you. I never expected for anyone to read this, much less review/follow/favorite it. I write because I enjoy it, but it's icing on the cake to know that the readers like it too. So, _thank you so much_ for even just taking a moment to read.

I tried to respond to all of the reviews. Hopefully I can do that in a more timely manner next time. Here's the next chapter! (Somehow these chapters keep getting bigger and bigger...)

Chapter 4

"Come on, darling, there you go," Martha says as she and Alexis lead Castle into his SoHo apartment, Beckett following behind uselessly. She'll give them their time though. Obviously, Alexis isn't happy about leaving for Europe today, so if she has to be the fourth wheel to this family of three, she'll do it.

She's surprised, actually, how much it hurts to see them together and her separate. It's a stark reminder that Castle has this whole life that she's not apart of. She mentally scoffs at herself. _And whose fault is that?_ She shakes her head at those thoughts as Martha and Alexis finally ease Castle onto the couch.

He was adamant that he was going to walk out of the hospital. She knew Castle was stubborn, but this was a side of him that she had rarely seen before. The nurses, with the help of one burly orderly and Castle's altered sense of balance, managed to get him into a wheelchair and out of the hospital.

From the car to the loft was their problem to deal with.

Castle is not a small man. His tall stature and broad shoulders make him difficult to maneuver, especially when he's trying to walk by himself. Not being able to see makes him dizzy. He has trouble telling which way is up, and they had a few close calls on the way to his loft. She heaves a great sigh of relief when he's finally sitting down and no longer mobile.

"All right. That's it. There, all better," Martha coos while Castle sulks on the couch. He was upset about not being able to walk out of the hospital, and even more upset when he realized walking on his own was harder than he thought.

"Now, darling, Alexis and I are going to finish packing." She turns to Beckett. "Let me know if you need anything, dear," she finishes as she flits up the stairs. Alexis leaves with a quick peck to her father's cheek and an uneasy glance at Beckett.

She tries to give a reassuring smile, but she's not sure if she succeeds.

Instead of dwelling on Alexis and the distrust coming off of her in waves, she plops down next to the other pouting teenager. At least she knows how to cheer this one up.

She nudges his shoulder. "Hey, Castle."

"Hey, Beckett," he says, pout still firmly on his face. She wants to pinch his bottom lip and tell him to put it back in before she rips it off, but she knows this pout is just for show, hinting at the turmoil he's hiding underneath.

She tried to get him to talk about it again this morning, but he wasn't interested, and she won't push anymore. He'll come around when he's ready. For now, she'll keep his mind off of it with a few of his favorite things.

"So, I was thinking, seeing as it is past ten and now within socially acceptable brunch hours, how would you feel about ice cream sundaes."

He whips his head to her. "Really? With all the toppings?"

"Yeah, sure. All the toppings."

"Yes! Beckett you are the best partner I've ever had," he says, a smile finally sliding onto his face.

She gets up and starts walking to the kitchen. "I'm the only partner you've ever had."

"Yes, but that does not take away from your loveliness." She rolls her eyes and grabs some bowls from the cabinet. She turns back to grab the ice cream from the freezer when she hears a crash from the living room. She looks over and sees Castle standing upright, cringing.

"What did I break?"

"Castle, you aren't supposed to be walking around by yourself yet," she scolds.

"But I wanted to see what you were doing. Well… that's not… you know what I mean."

She walks over to help him to the kitchen. "If you place your hands on the counter here…" She grabs his hands and places them on the counter, leaving her hands on top of his and her front pressed against his back for a nanosecond longer than normal. "There. Maybe that will help you balance a little."

"I'm good, Beckett. Thanks. Now, what are you doing _right. Now._ "

"Well, I was going to get the ice cream when you decided to wow me with your improvement in mobility."

He bumps her hip with his in retaliation, and she walks back over to the freezer to finally grab the ice cream.

"Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate, duh."

"You say that like it's obvious."

"It is. Chocolate is always superior to vanilla. Everyone knows that."

"Well, I disagree, and I'm going with vanilla," she says as she walks both tubs over to the counter where he is standing.

"Of course you would, Beckett."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She pokes him.

"I'm just saying, vanilla is very… by the book."

"Are you calling me vanilla, Castle?"

"You said it, not me."

She saunters up to him and presses her body against his side, mouth to his ear. "Oh, Castle. I don't think you could handle knowing about some of the things I've done."

"Try me." It comes out breathy and a pitch higher than normal.

"Let's just say…" she pauses, letting him hang on every word. "If I were ever caught, my rap sheet would make yours look like the Disney Channel."

She steps back then, and he feels the cool air rush in where her stomach had been pressed to his side and her breath in his ear.

"Besides, I'm more of a strawberry kind of girl." He files that away in his mind for later. He hears her pulling out jars from the cabinet. "Alright, Castle. All the toppings? Are you sure?" She asks as if they're going into battle.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He says just as gravely. She places each jar in front of him and plops a spoon in each.

"Okay. So all the way to the left is the gummy bear jar, next is Oreos, chocolate chips, graham crackers, sprinkles, and some cherries from the fridge. I also grabbed the marshmallow sauce, caramel sauce, and chocolate sauce."

He waits her out for a moment. When she doesn't move to help him, he scowls.

"You're not gonna help me?"

"No, Castle. You're capable of putting toppings on your own ice cream."

"But, Kaaaaate. What if I put too much?"

"Is that even possible in your world?"

He thinks for a moment. "Good point." They happily go about making their ice cream sundaes, despite the challenges that Beckett's broken arm and Castle's lack of eyesight create. Beckett barely puts any ice cream in her bowl and only puts a cherry on top, but Castle doesn't need to know that. He'd be so disappointed in her.

Once he's finished, she takes her regular ice cream and his monster of a sundae to the living room before coming back to help him to the couch. She places his ice cream in his lap once he is seated, and he digs in.

"So, what do you want to do?" Beckett asks.

"I would say watch a movie, but that wouldn't be fair. You can see it, and I can't."

She pauses in thought, and then stands up. She pats him on the knee. "I'll be right back."

She disappears in the direction of his bedroom. It pains him a little bit, knowing that she is in his bedroom and he's not there with her. It's not how he wanted her to see his bedroom for the first time. Before he can feel too bad for himself, she returns and flops back onto the couch next to him.

"Here. Now we're even." She grabs his hand and places it on her eyes. He runs his fingers against something silk and familiar. He realizes it's the eye mask he keeps in his bedside table. He mouth turns up in a half smile, the other side of his mouth still shocked that she would do this for him.

"So, what are we watching?" She asks.

…

Halfway through _His Girl Friday_ , Martha and Alexis walk down the stairs lugging their suitcases. Martha pauses for a moment, causing Alexis to stumble into her back.

"Gram, what-?" Her grandmother shushes her with a hand as she looks at the two on the couch. Castle and Beckett are both slumped, heads together, asleep. Beckett's sleep mask is still in place. Martha chuckles at them. She continues down the stairs loudly enough that the two on the couch jolt awake.

Beckett looks around in confusion for a moment until she remembers the sleep mask. She lifts it up to reveal Martha and Alexis standing in front of the couch. She blushes, something she seems to be doing a lot lately.

"Well, darlings. We're off!"

Alexis abandons her bag and sits down next to her dad on the couch, cuddling into his side. Beckett pauses the movie and stands up to give the two some privacy.

"Thank you for staying with him, Kate."

She looks over to Martha in surprise. "It's no problem, Martha. I want to be here."

"I'm just surprised."

"Surprised?"

"I would think that your hunky doctor boyfriend would be uncomfortable with you staying in another man's home."

Beckett blanches. She hadn't even thought of Josh or how he would feel about this, and that says more about her than she's willing to acknowledge. Alexis gives her dad one last hug and gets up, while Martha gives Kate a knowing look.

"Take care of him, Detective," Alexis whispers to her as she comes to collect her suitcase.

"I promise, Alexis." She touches the girl lightly on the shoulder. The only thing she receives in return is a nod, but it's enough for now.

"Goodbye, Mother. Don't get into too much trouble," Castle says as she walks over to give him a hug.

"Oh, you." She pinches his cheek. "Don't give Kate too much trouble."

"Promise."

"Can I get that in writing?" Kate quips. Castle sticks out his tongue at her.

"Richard, please," Martha admonishes. "All right, you two be good. We'll be back in a week!" With that the two red heads exit the apartment. Kate sits back down next to him, but before she can hit play on the movie, her phone rings. She answers and puts it on speaker so Castle can hear.

"Hey, Espo. What's up?"

"Hey, Beckett. How's Castle?"

"Dramatic as usual."

"I'm doing well, Esposito. Thanks for asking," Castle says, looking at her pointedly.

"Good to hear, man. I'm just calling to let you know that Elliot Lang is awake and lucid. Ryan and I are going down there to talk to him. You want in?"

She thinks about it for a moment, and she sees Castle's shoulders slump. "Nah, that's okay. You guys go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I gotta make sure Castle doesn't break his neck."

"Hey!" Castle whines.

"All right. We'll fill you in when we're done."

"Thanks, Espo." She hangs up the phone, and they sit in silence for a moment.

"You could've gone you know," Castle says finally. She puts her good hand on his arm so that he knows she's there.

"It's okay. I don't need to go talk to Lang."

"I just don't want you to think that you have to babysit me all day long."

"Castle." She moves her touch from his arm to his hand. "I wouldn't have offered to stay with you if I didn't know what I was getting into. I'm here with you by choice, not by obligation. I _want_ to be here."

He pauses, a little choked up if he's honest with himself. "Well, thanks. I appreciate it," he says, and she squeezes his hand.

"No thanks needed." He shifts in his seat as if he has more to say. She waits him out, knowing he'll say what he wants to say in time.

"I was just wondering, because… Well, I overheard my mother ask you about Josh, and I just—I don't want you to stay with me if it makes him uncomfortable."

She can tell that it pains him to say it. It pains her a little bit too. To be honest, she knows that it hasn't been working with Josh for a while. They barely have time to see each other. When they do, they just fall into bed together for a few hours until one of them gets a call to go into work.

She's finally starting to admit to herself that Josh is her safety blanket. If she's single, then nothing stops her and Castle from getting together. As much as it is something she wants, she's so afraid. She knows that if they ever got together, that would be "it" for her. It would be forever, and she's not sure she's ready for that just yet.

She sighs. "Castle, Josh is in Africa. He isn't supposed to come home for a few more weeks."

"So, you're saying he doesn't know. He doesn't know you were hurt."

"No, he doesn't. It's hard to get in contact with him, and I didn't want to worry him over nothing. As far as him being uncomfortable…" She pauses. "It's not his place. You're my partner, and I'm going to take care of you. It's what partners do." She takes a deep breath. "It's what best friends do."

They're both silent for a minute, hands still clasped. Suddenly, she removes her hand from his, pats his knee, and stands up.

"I forgot. I got something for you." She runs to her bag, unzips it with her good hand, and grabs something out of it. Then, he hears her move towards his entertainment system. He's contemplating what on earth she is doing when what he thinks is a tango meets his ears.

"I remember you said that you wanted to start appreciating classical music again, so I stopped by my dad's and grabbed a few of my favorites." She sits back down on the couch, and they sit and listen for a moment. Beckett closes her eyes as she remembers the notes of the song, remembers her mother and father dancing in the kitchen late at night. She can almost hear her mom humming along.

"Care to dance, Detective?" Castle says as if reading her mind. She balks for a moment, but grabs his hand in the end.

"I'd love to."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello! Once again thank you all for your support. I love to hear your comments, bad and good, so please don't hesistate to leave a review if you are confused about something, think something should have been done differently, or think I'm bad at grammar and need to fix it (I know that my use of commas can sometimes go overboard). Here's the next chapter. This one is much longer than the others, but it felt natural to end it where I did. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

It's awkward and wonderful at the same time. They start out apart, Castle trying to keep his balance and Beckett trying to help without injuring herself more. She has to lead for much of it, but it's nice. They laugh as they stumble around like a pair of drunken co-eds at prom, and it's probably the most fun that she's had in a long time.

Gradually, she ends up with her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. Her soft cast scratches his neck a little, but he's too distracted by their position to care. She tells herself that it's easiest for them to stay balanced like this. There's no other reason why this position feels so perfect.

"Beckett?" Castle's soft voice breaks the comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" She murmurs back, as if speaking too loudly will pop the comfortable, hazy bubble surrounding them.

"If what the doctor says is true… If I can't see again." He pauses and she runs her hand through his hair to soothe him. "What am I going to do?"

She knew it would come up eventually, even wanted it to if she's being honest. But now that he's finally broken the seal on the subject, she's not sure what to say.

"Well, you'll get a cane and some super cool sunglasses. You'll probably stumble for a while. Martha will move some furniture one day without telling you, and you'll bruise your knee when you run into it. Ultimately though, you're going to be fine. You're such a strong person, Castle. If anyone can get through this and come out the other side just as optimistic as they were before, it's you. I believe in you."

He squeezes her waist a little tighter in thanks.

"Will I still be able to write?"

"Of course. You can dictate to a computer, or we can learn Braille. This isn't the end for you. You're still you even without your sight."

He decides not to comment on her use of the word "we", afraid that she might pull away, but there is one question still burning at the back of his mind.

"Will I still be able to come to the precinct with you?"

He feels her tense. He knew it. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go back if he never regained his sight. He was just asking, hoping that she would have a better answer for him. He's so caught up in his own malaise that he almost misses when she starts speaking.

"I think so," she whispers. "You may not be able to go on take downs with us, but you can still help us solve cases. We can talk to Montgomery, get it all squared away."

He almost crumples in relief. His head falls to her shoulder, and he feels her fingers in his hair again. He's not sure what he would do if he couldn't go to the precinct anymore. Solving crimes is important to him. It makes him feel like he's doing something purposeful with his time.

Well, partly. He knows that she is the true reason that he needs to stay. If he's not her boyfriend, and he's not at the precinct, then what is he to her? Friends, sure, but friends drift apart. Friends stop seeing each other every day, and then they stop talking on the phone, and then even the texts stop, until they're questioning whether or not messaging the other on their birthday would be weird or not.

No. He can't let that happen between him and Beckett. He hugs her tighter and buries his nose in her neck. He knows he shouldn't, knows that she's someone else's, but he can't help it. He can't imagine his life without her.

...

When she says it, she can physically feel his relief. For a moment, she is afraid she might have to catch him, but he rights himself and buries his nose in her neck. His breath sends shivers down her spine.

She's big enough to admit that as much as he needs to be in the precinct, she probably needs him there more. It doesn't matter what Montgomery says. Castle stays, eyesight or not. She feels him squeeze her tighter. Oh, Castle. For the second time in so many days, she wishes that she weren't in a relationship, that she wasn't so afraid of this connection they share.

It would be so easy just to dive into it with him right now. But of course, nothing is ever that easy, and she _is_ afraid of what they could be together. Oh, and Josh.

She feels bad about Josh. She likes him, she really does, but she knows he's just a placeholder, and it really isn't fair to him. He should be able to be with someone who can commit to him wholly. Not a broken police detective who very well might be in love with another man. Of course, she'd never use herself, Castle, and love in the same sentence. Never.

She pulls back from him, seeking him out with her eyes and suddenly remembers once again that he can't see her. They're so used to communicating with looks. They can have whole conversations without saying one word, and that connection could be lost if Castle never regains his sight. For some reason it's that thought that punches her in the gut. She almost physically recoils, but she can't lose it in front of him. She can't. She has to be the strong one.

If by sheer force of will, she sucks the tears back into her eyes and gives Castle's shoulder a final squeeze. If he can sense her inner turmoil, he isn't showing it. Although, it's possible he's still caught up in his own concern.

"Come on, Castle. Let's finish that movie."

…

Thirty minutes later, they are back where Martha had found them just a few hours before. Asleep. The emotional conversation mixed with trying to keep Castle physically upright while dancing wore both of them out. The title screen for "His Girl Friday" has been playing for at least 10 minutes, but the two on the couch remain oblivious.

It's Beckett who wakes up first. Unaware of their position on the couch, she nuzzles her face against what she thinks is her pillow. Once she comes into consciousness further, she realizes it's not a pillow at all, but Castle's chest. They're lying lengthwise along his large leather couch, and Beckett is nestled between Castle and the back cushions.

She freezes for a moment and takes a deep breath. She thinks that she could stay in this position forever, but they haven't eaten anything since the sundaes at 10, and it's nearing 5pm.

Slowly, she extricates herself from the couch, trying not to hold her weight on her broken arm. Once up, she stops and stares down at him for a moment, so innocent, even in sleep. Breaking herself from her thoughts, she goes to see what Castle's kitchen has to offer. She settles on Fettuccini Alfredo with chicken and hums quietly as she begins to cook.

The pasta is simmering in the sauce, and the chicken is browning in the oven when she hears a knock on the door.

She quietly runs to get it, hoping that whoever is on the other side doesn't wake Castle. When she opens the door, she's surprised to find Ryan and Esposito on the other side.

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, Beckett. How're you guys doing?" Ryan asks.

"Good. You're just in time. I was making an early dinner if you're hungry." She opens the door to let them in. "Just try and be quiet. Sleeping Beauty is resting on the couch."

"Naps and dinner. How domestic," Ryan says with a smirk. She gives him a look, but ushers them to the kitchen bar stools. Castle, woken by the knock, tries to get up. He's getting better at walking, but without a guide or something to hold on to, he freezes halfway to the kitchen.

"Beckett?"

She looks over from her conversation to see Castle standing aimlessly in the living room. She runs to help him with an urgency that is not lost on the boys. They share a look.

"How much you wanna bet they're together by the end of this week," Ryan whispers.

"Nah, bro. She's still with Doctor Motorcycle Boy."

"Twenty bucks?"

"Deal." The two shake on it as Beckett finally gets Castle to the bar and onto a stool. The three men catch up while Beckett grabs plates and cutlery from memory. Ryan and Esposito share a look at her familiarity with Castle's kitchen. After serving them, she quickly shows Castle where his knife and fork are while the boys dig in.

They feel a little bit bad now. It's normal for them to joke around when something bad happens. Sometimes gallows humor is the only thing that gets them through it all. But now, watching Beckett whisper in Castle's ear while handing him his fork and knife, their joking and betting somehow feels wrong. Castle's condition is serious, and as much as even Rick would appreciate the humor, they need to seriously consider that this may not be temporary.

…

Dinner is pleasant. It is the most normal he's felt since the accident, despite the fact that he keeps bringing his fork up to find it empty of pasta. At some point, Beckett scrapes all that is left to the middle of his plate, so he can find it and finish it off.

After they're finished, they move their conversation to the living room. Beckett helps Castle back to the couch and sits closely next to him when they arrive.

"All right, so why did you guys really come over?" Beckett asks during a lull in the conversation.

Ryan and Esposito share a look. "We figured you'd want to know what went down with Lang." She nods.

"He was reluctant to say anything at first, but the residual anger from being shot and the deal we offered him loosened him up a bit," Ryan explains.

"Lang came back from his last tour about eight months ago. Just before he came home, he was mildly wounded and became addicted to the prescription pain meds he was given," Esposito starts.

"Once he was healed and the prescription ran out, he had to go about finding drugs the hard way. Got into all kinds of bad stuff," Ryan chimes in.

"Eventually, he got into debt with a loan shark. Loan shark wanted his money, Lang couldn't pay."

"But how did that lead to Jack Wheatley being killed?" Castle asks.

"Patience, bro. We're getting there."

"So, Lang is getting a drink with his cousin Sam when he admits to being a little low on money. Sam tells him he thinks he has a way for him to make a little cash," Ryan continues.

"Kill Wheatley," Beckett says.

"But why?" Castle adds. The boys look annoyed at their interjections.

"Do you guys wanna hear the story or not?" Esposito asks.

"Our lips are sealed," Beckett replies. She places a hand over Castle's mouth and mimics a zipper with her own.

"Good. So, a few days ago, Sam's wife Laurie comes to him and says she's leaving him. This was out of the blue for Sam, and they get into a huge argument."

Castle, agitated by being silenced, licks Beckett's palm.

"Ew, jeeze Castle. What are you twelve?" Esposito and Ryan give her another look. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, wiping her spitty hand on Castle's pants.

"Anyway, in that argument, Sam's wife admits to him that Sam's son, Danny, is not actually his son," Esposito says. The two on the couch both look like they want to say something, but they refrain.

"Of course, Sam is devastated by the news."

"He and his son were close," Esposito adds. Ryan nods and continues.

"So, Sam starts asking questions. Who's the father, when did it happen, how did she not tell him? Obvious stuff. Turns out, Jack Wheatley is one of Laurie's old high school boyfriends, the one that got away, so to speak. Eleven years ago, back when she and Sam were dating, she ran into Jack while Sam was away on a business trip."

"The two got to talking and boom bam, they end up in bed together," Esposito smirks, and Beckett throws him a glare. "Sam never knows about it. Laurie gets pregnant, and he just assumes it's his. He proposes on the spot, and they get married."

"Unfortunately for him, Laurie never got over Jack. The two ran into each other about seven months ago and started having an affair… again," Ryan adds.

"Jack didn't even know that Sam was her husband until he brought her to the company Christmas party. They had talked about Laurie leaving Sam and taking Danny to be with Jack, Danny's real father. That's what was in the papers Jack was trying to hide. They were formal adoption papers for Danny."

Beckett, not wanting to be left out of the theory building, chimes in. "So, not wanting to lose his son to Jack, he tells Lang that he will pay him to take care of the problem. Lang is so hard up for money that he agrees."

"Yep."

"But then why shoot him?"

"After he killed Jack, Lang had a change of heart. He wanted to go to the police with what he had done, and told Sam that they could use the money to hire a lawyer to help him keep his son. Sam, knowing that he would go away for murder as well, tried to keep that from happening. So, he shot Lang. Fortunately for him, we came in before Sam could finish the job."

There is a pause, three detectives and a writer mulling over the situation.

"So, where is Sam now?" Castle asks.

"Not sure. We got an APB out still, and uniforms are going around checking with his friends, coworkers, and all places he's been known to frequent. We'll find him. We were just about to head home actually, but we figured you'd want the update," Ryan says after checking his watch.

"Good work, guys. Thanks for keeping us in the loop." Beckett stands and walks them to the door. Before they leave, Esposito stops and turns to Kate. "Don't worry about the precinct, Beckett. We got it all taken care of. You just take care of our boy," he says quietly. She gives him a hug.

"Thanks, Javi." She hugs Ryan before shutting the door behind them and returning to her spot beside Castle. Now that the boys are gone, she reclaims Castle's hand. She can feel that he's tense beside her, and she waits him out.

"Wow," is all he says.

"I know. I can't imagine what Sam must be feeling," she says.

"I can." She pauses for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

"Castle, are you saying that Alexis…"

"No, she's mine. I'm her father." There's a long pause. "I just can't help but think that I could have been Sam."

"What do you mean?"

"It's no secret that Alexis wasn't planned. I was high off of my first book, and Meredith was fun. We both knew that it was never going to be serious, but then she got pregnant. I proposed, she said yes, and we were one big happy family. Until we weren't." He heaves out a deep breath and sits up to put his elbows on his knees. She moves her hand from his to his back and begins rubbing soothing circles.

"After Meredith cheated on me, I couldn't help but wonder about Alexis. She was so smart, even at three, and she was such a spitting image of her mother. If Meredith could cheat on me when we were married, could she have done it when we were just having fun? We weren't exclusive per se, and… Well, I have money and the means to take care of a kid. I wondered if maybe she just picked me because of my wealth."

Beckett hears a small whimper. It takes her a moment to realize that it came from her own mouth. How could anyone make Castle feel this way? How could anyone treat such a wonderful, loving, caring person so terribly?

"I'm so sorry, Castle."

"It's all right. Needless to say, I got a paternity test done to make sure. She's mine. Don't know how she turned out the way she did, but she's _mine_." He says it with such pride that it nearly brings tears to her eyes. "I just can so easily see myself in Sam's position. I don't know what I would have done if Alexis wasn't mine… if someone tried to take her away from me."

At the tone of his voice, she wraps her uninjured arm around his and leans her head on his shoulder. He places his free hand on hers, and they sit in silence for a moment. They sit there for minutes, maybe hours, thinking about everything and nothing. It's nine o'clock by the time Beckett shifts in his arms. They're both exhausted from their injuries and from the mentally trying day they've had. Beckett helps him into his bathroom and makes sure he is steady before she heads up to the guest bathroom to get ready.

Castle stands in his bathroom for a few minutes trying to remember where he put everything. He struggles to find his face wash, knocking over multiple bottles in the search. Finally, he grabs what he is almost positive is the right bottle. He reaches for the washcloth and finds that it is missing. Hoping that it has just fallen from its perch on the towel bar, he squats down and runs his hands across the floor. After finding nothing but a hairball, he stands back up, smacking his head on the bar.

Upstairs, Beckett hears a yelp. She comes charging into Castle's bathroom as fast as she can and finds him sitting on the floor holding the back of his head. She kneels down beside him and swats his hand away.

"What happened?" She probes the area lightly, checking for blood or bruising. He seems to be fine.

"I couldn't find the washcloth," he says. His voice is strained, as if he's trying not to cry, and she rubs her hand down his back. She looks up at the counter and sees the washcloth sitting right next to the sink and bottles scattered everywhere.

"I'm sorry, Castle. It's my fault. I moved the washcloth to the counter to make it easier for you to find. I didn't think…"

"It's okay," he says sullenly. "Do you think you could…?" He stops, as if he is embarrassed to ask.

"Could what?"

"Help me?" She rolls her eyes.

"Of course." She places his hands on the counter as she did in the kitchen earlier that morning, and they go through his nightly routine together.

She makes sure the water is warm, not hot, before running the washcloth under it. He feels her lightly dab his face with the cloth before grabbing his hand and holding it palm up.

"You think you can do it yourself?" She asks, and he nods. She squeezes some face wash into his palm and watches as he lathers up. When he's finished, she runs the cloth across his face again, making sure to be gentle around the bandages.

She pauses a moment to inspect his face. His five o'clock shadow has come in, and she can't help but notice how handsome his is with it. Her hand runs the cloth across the stubble hypnotically, almost without her permission.

He notices she's lightly rubbing the same spot on his jaw over and over, and for a moment, he feels exposed without his eyesight. Exposed and cheated. He's sure she's looking at him, and he wishes so badly that he could look back. That he could look into her eyes and tell what she was thinking at that moment and why she was caressing his face with what feels like love when she's with another man.

"Beckett?" He squeaks and feels her start a little bit.

"Got it. There was a stubborn spot," she says, doing a poor job of disguising the emotion in her voice. He decides not to press. When he's finally ready, he uses her as a crutch as they shuffle to his bed.

"Don't forget, your appointment with the eye specialist is tomorrow. We gotta get up bright and early for that."

"You're coming with me?"

"Of course I am."

"But what about the precinct?"

"I took the morning off. You didn't think I was going to let you go alone did you?" He subtly shakes his head. She assumes the conversation is over and goes to leave, but he grabs her hand.

"Thanks, Kate. You've made this so much easier for me. I don't know what I'd do without you." She leans down close to his face and pushes his bangs back from his forehead. Her eyes stare down at him for a moment, while her brain tries to remember why the hell she can't just kiss him right now.

"There's nowhere I'd rather be." She leans in a little further and kisses his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth. Then, she gets up. "Night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow." She gives his hand a squeeze for that and retreats to the guest room.

Once upstairs, she closes the door and leans against it, still trying to get her breathing under control. She almost kissed him. She came so close. She can't. Whether or not she's ready to commit to forever, she knows now that she needs to end things with Josh. She knows that she can't keep stringing him along, especially when it's becoming harder and harder not to give in to this thing between her and Castle.

She'll call Josh tomorrow. She will. She lays down that night and tries not to think about the conversation ahead of her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I feel like a broken record, but once again thank you for all your follows, favorites, reviews, etc. I'm working on responding back to everyone. This chapter is a little bit shorter. It kind of snuck up on me and happened unintentionally, so I ended it where I thought was best. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6

She's standing, illuminated, in a dark room. Suddenly, a light shines down on Castle to her right. He's standing on a bomb, the clock ticking down from one minute. Then Josh appears to her left. He's standing on a bomb just like Castle, the same clock ticking, ticking, ticking.

"You have to choose, Kate." The voice comes from out of nowhere, echoing across the empty room.

"Who are you?" She blinks up into the light. She receives no response.

"Choose." The voice comes again.

"What does that mean?!" She screams out into the blackness. Then, her mom appears in front of her on her knees. Jerry Tyson has a gun to her head.

"Mom!"

"Choose one or they all die," Jerry sneers. She whips her head around to the people she cares about, unable to choose.

"I can't…" Sweat drips from her temple down her cheek. When did it get so hot in here?

The clock ticks down to ten seconds. That's when the yelling starts.

Castle and Josh are screaming her name over and over again, begging her to save them. She looks to her mom for advice, but her mom is suspiciously silent. Their eyes meet, and tears stream down both of their faces.

"Choose," her mom whispers. How she could hear it over the yelling, she doesn't know. The clock ticks down, 3, 2, 1.

"No!"

She sits up in bed, lungs gasping for air. She wipes the sweat off her forehead and throws the covers off. Just a dream. Just a dream. She puts her head between her knees and breathes deeply, hoping to stave off some of the panic. Then, she hears it. Her name.

It's quiet, and she almost thinks that she's back in the dream, when she recognizes the voice. Castle.

She's out of bed and down the stairs before she realizes what she's doing. Her feet propel her into his room almost without permission when she sees him sitting up on the bed, practically sobbing. She crawls onto the empty side of the bed and grabs him, cradling his head to her neck. His arm comes around her waist, steadying himself against her.

She whispers things in his ear, she doesn't know what, just murmuring soothing words and sounds until his breathing evens a bit. He tightens his grip on her and lets out one last deep breath. They sit like that for a moment until she breaks the silence.

"What's going on with you?"

"A dream. Just a dream," he exhales into her neck. "We were back in Dalton's apartment, but instead of a flash bang it was a bomb."

She begins making soothing circles on his back with her casted hand, continuing to wipe the tears that have soaked through the bandages and escaped down his face. He takes another deep breath.

"You died." The words come out mangled and wrong and like nothing she's ever heard from him. Tears drip down his face again, and she lifts his head off of her shoulder so that she can wipe them with both hands.

"I'm okay, Castle. I'm here." She pulls him back into a hug.

"I was so relieved when I woke up. I was so relieved, and I forgot…" At this admission, the tears that had been teetering on her eyelashes splash down her face. Oh, Castle.

"You forgot you couldn't see."

"Yeah," he breathes out. "I panicked." She nods her head against his in understanding. He feels a tear drip onto his skin and sits up.

"Kate, are you crying?"

Embarrassed, she wipes her tears away.

"No." The watery response is unconvincing. He tries to move his hands to her face, but gets her chin instead. Close enough.

"No, hey. Don't cry. I'm going to be fine. It's okay."

"Castle, you don't have to do that. You don't have to pretend to be fine when you're hurting."

"Same goes, Beckett." She pauses, then nods. "What's wrong?" He asks. Her tears begin again.

"This is all my fault. I don't know how you can ever forgive me." He slightly recoils in shock. His mother had mentioned to him that Beckett was taking this pretty hard, but he never thought that she blamed herself for it.

"Why would you say that?'

"You're my partner, and I let you down. I'm supposed to make sure you don't get hurt, and I _failed_." Her voice cracks on the last word.

He pauses in thought. He needs to word this just right.

"Kate, listen. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm an adult." She lets out a small, watery laugh, and he smiles. "I made my own decisions that day. I could have stayed with you or gotten you to stop, but I didn't. If you think this is your fault, then it also has to be Ryan's and Esposito's and Montgomery's and _mine._ None of us thought we were going into a dangerous situation. You did the best with what you had, and you are in no way responsible for this."

Her body deflates into his arms. She didn't think that hearing it from him would soothe her guilt - it certainly didn't when Martha told her - but she feels surprisingly light at his words. She takes a moment just to breathe him in, listening as their heartbeats align. Why on earth has she been fighting this when it feels like the most natural, inevitable thing in the world?

His hand moving gently along her spine brings her back to reality.

"And I'm nervous about tomorrow," she admits. The calming rhythm on her back stutters for a moment then resumes.

"Me too." It's whispered, as if letting it out into the world would make everything crash to pieces. She moves her arms from his chest to around his waist, turning their cuddle into a proper hug.

"I know I don't tell you often, and I know you try to hide it, but you're a rock, Castle. Martha, Alexis, they both rely on you so much. _I_ rely on you so much." He holds her a bit tighter. "But you don't have to be a rock all the time. You're always there for me, so just this one time let me be there for you. Let me be your rock."

He crumbles at that. His face falls back into her neck, and she can feel his tears drip down her collarbones like raindrops, but she doesn't dare move. He needs this. If, God forbid, tomorrow doesn't go well, he's going to need her. He's going to need someone to support him, and she's more than willing to take that position.

His tears lessen, and he lifts his head. She wishes she could see his eyes, that she had x-ray vision to see through those ridiculous bandages so she could know what he was thinking. Suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly, he leans in and his lips are on hers. It's just a brush at first, like butterfly wings.

She's not sure who's responsible, but one of them deepens it. In that moment, she feels pieces of the universe coming together, like every mystery of the world has been solved in this one touch of his lips against hers. It probably only lasts seconds, maybe less, but to her it feels like hours and years and millennia and she never ever wants this kiss to end. It's as if someone heard her thought and wanted to spite her, because he pulls back and she's kissing nothing but air.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. So sorry," he babbles. Their foreheads are resting together, and she can feel his breath across her lips. Why is he sorry? Did the kiss not feel as cosmically perfect to him as it did to her?

"What?" It doesn't sound like her at all, but it's all she can get her mouth to say.

"You have a boyfriend, and you're taking care of me, and I shouldn't have kissed you. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You should go."

She's so shocked by the turn of events that she can't say anything, can't even move for a moment.

"Beckett." He turns his head away from her with guilt, remorse, and no small amount of pleading in his voice. If she doesn't leave now, he's not sure if he can control himself.

For some reason, she can't get her vocal chords to work. She wants to tell him that it's okay. It's wonderful, actually. She wants to tell him that he shouldn't feel guilty, because the kiss they just shared was so much more than all the kisses she ever had with Josh or anyone combined. She wants to stay, maybe kiss again. Maybe go further.

But she doesn't say any of that. She slowly slides out of his bed and walks to the door separating his bedroom from the living room. She's thankful for this door, because she's sure if she had to walk the extra steps through his office, her resolve would evaporate, and she'd come crawling back to him. In her heart, she knows she can't do that. She's not a cheater. Not any more than the now three kisses they've shared.

She looks to him as she exits the room, hoping to see something, but there's nothing. His posture is rigid and controlled, and his face has a deep frown on it. It's certainly won't be the last time that she wishes she could just look into his eyes. She's so bad at communicating with words. Words were always his. If she could just look into his eyes and tell him that it's okay, that it's all going to be okay, she would feel so much better.

But instead, she shuffles back up to the cold, empty guest room with rocks in her stomach and bile in her throat.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hello again! I know some of you were mad at Beckett at the end of the last chapter, but let's not turn on our favorite detective just yet. ;) Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7

She didn't sleep all night. She's memorized the patterns on nearly every surface in the guest room and could recreate them by memory if asked. She's also gone over every minute of their kiss trying to figure out what went wrong? What did she do that made Castle think that she wasn't enjoying that stupefying, mind-boggling, universe altering kiss.

 _"Well, maybe it's the fact that you have a boyfriend,"_ the voice in her head supplies. She rolls her eyes. That won't be a problem soon.

She grabs her phone from the charger on the nightstand and checks the time. 5:00am. Which means it's 10am in Benin, where Josh is currently stationed. He might already be working, but she needs to try anyway.

She takes a deep breath and types in the number he left her in case she needed to reach him. It rings, a good sign. She's practically holding her breath at each ring, jumping when the static makes a different noise and it sounds like he's picking up.

On the fourth ring she starts to feel nervous. Maybe it was too late in the morning. She should've called earlier when she was staring blankly at the ceiling. Or maybe later when it's closer to lunchtime for him.

She gets what she thinks is an answering machine and hangs up. This is not a message that should be left over a voicemail. It's not even something she should be doing over the phone, but when your boyfriend is halfway across the world, it makes things like breaking up more difficult. She releases a single sardonic laugh at the thought.

As she goes to get out of bed, her stomach growls. 5:10 in the morning is not the best time to be cooking, but she thinks she can be quiet enough in the kitchen. She wants to make a nice big breakfast like the last time she stayed here. She's not sure if it's a sorry about 'your sight', 'our kiss', or 'my boyfriend' breakfast, but in thinking about it, she solidified her decision. Clearly she has a lot to apologize for.

She tiptoes down the stairs and gets to work in the kitchen.

…

He sleeps fitfully. He just can't get his mind off of that kiss. What was he thinking? Well, he knows what he was thinking.

He loves her.

It hit him like a ton of bricks in that moment. He could see them, years from now, still supporting each other through good times and bad, and he _wants_ that. He yearns for that so badly, and in a moment of weakness, he kissed her. And the worst part was that it was perfect.

It was the most perfect moment he's ever shared with another person, and it was a mistake. That's what hurts the most, he thinks. That this is just going to be another thing that they don't talk about. Another thing that he has to bury deep inside and never speak of again lest she run away. It's always one step forward, two steps back with her, and he doesn't know what to do.

What he does know is that he can't let it continue like this. He needs to say his peace and figure out what page of this crazy, twisted novel they are both on. He feels like he's near the end, and she's still at the beginning. Although, after that kiss, maybe she's reached the middle.

He hears a bump in the kitchen and a quiet, "Ouch." Good, she's awake. He gets up and finds that he's not quiet as unbalanced as before, and if he holds to the walls and doorways, he can maneuver fairly easily through the room. He takes this newfound confidence into the living room with him, hoping it will aid him in the upcoming conversation.

When he gets there, his heart stops a little. She's making breakfast again, and from the amount of pans he hears moving around, he assumes it's big.

"Hey, Castle!" She chirps when she sees him shuffle into the living room. "Need any help?"

"No, thanks." He tries to infuse some levity into his voice, but he's not sure if he succeeded. She's blown him over once again. He thought she'd hide in her room until it was time to go to his appointment, not make a big breakfast and greet him as if what happened last night hadn't freaked her out beyond possibility. Maybe that's the thing. Maybe this is how she pretends it didn't happen.

She scowls at his tone, but lets him shuffle his way to the kitchen counter across from her. Once he's seated, he hears a plate and silverware being placed in front of him.

"So, I have eggs, bacon, pancakes and waffles with optional chocolate chips, yogurt with granola, some strawberries and bananas, and even some biscuits with gravy if you want that."

"Jeeze, Beckett. How many people are you planning on feeding with this breakfast?" He asks as he hears her putting some things on his plate.

"I just thought I'd do something special. It's a big day," she murmurs, and he feels like crap for joking.

"Thanks," he says with as much feeling as he can muster. She's taken the wind out of his sails this morning. In the course of a minute, she's made him question her, their relationship, and what kind of jerk he must be for coming in and looking for a fight when she made him a three-course breakfast. His pride is a little bruised, and he kind of wants to go lick his wounds by himself. But she's made him a gigantic meal, and he should at least do her the courtesy of enjoying it.

"Okay, you got eggs at 10 o'clock, a pancake and waffle with chocolate chips from 3 – 6 o'clock, bacon at 8, water to your left and some fruit to your right." She moves from behind the counter, and he thinks that she is going back upstairs. To his surprise, she plops her plate down next to his and jumps up onto a barstool.

"Eat up," she says before she digs in to her own food. He starts to eat, but his confusion over Beckett's reaction and his nerves about his impending appointment have stolen his appetite. He wishes he could just look inside her head and see the cogs working. What is she thinking about all of this?

 _"Ask,"_ the voice inside his head says. No, he can't just ask. That's not what they do.

 _"It could be."_ That voice is persistent. On some levels it's right. He has to admit that he is half the problem with their communication. He just doesn't want to scare her away, he reasons.

 _"Coward,"_ the voice says. He clenches his fingers around his silverware. Fine. He'll do it.

"Beckett, can we talk about the –" He's cut off by his phone ringing, chiming the tone he specifically selected for Alexis. He deflates again and grabs the phone from where he remembers placing it when he sat down.

"Hey, Pumpkin," he answers with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. He gets up and goes to shuffle to his bedroom to have the conversation in private when he feels her hand across his back. It could've just been a gesture of support, but his stubborn, naïve heart hopes that it meant something more.

He's only half listening to his daughter's hurried explanation of their itinerary for the day. Apparently they're touring Oxford. He's happy for Alexis, but it hurts him a little to hear her enthusiasm for it. He hears Beckett placing things in leftover containers before padding up the stairs. This must be the moment he was waiting for. The moment she runs from _that_ conversation. Again.

…

She goes upstairs to give him some privacy. They almost had _that_ conversation. Again. To be honest, she was waiting for it. She doesn't want to gloss it over this time, doesn't want to pretend that it never happened. If it weren't for Alexis's ill-timed call, they would be having that conversation right now.

Maybe it's for the best. She's not even sure what she wants with Castle. Well, that's not true. She's not sure what her head will allow her to have with Castle. Is she ready to dive in? Is she ready to be in the last relationship of her life? She knows that's what it will be if it happens. Is she ready for that kind of commitment?

Her phone rings. She jumps for it, hoping that maybe Josh was calling her back, but it's just Esposito. Her finger hovers over the accept button in indecision. Eventually, the call rolls to voicemail. It's okay. He knows she's got the morning off. He's probably just calling to wish Castle good luck. She'll call him back later.

She tosses the phone onto the bed and starts getting ready for the day.

…

His conversation with Alexis goes on for a while. She tells him all about the sight seeing they've done already and all of the places they plan to see tomorrow.

"Did you know they shot part of Harry Potter at Oxford?" Alexis squeals into the phone.

He gasps. "Daughter, please tell me you do not want to go to one of the world's finest educational institutions simply because it was featured in your favorite book series."

"Of course not, it's just a fun fact."

"Well, they shot Legally Blonde at Harvard. You love that movie!"

"Dad," she scolds, knowing where he's going with the topic. "They shot that at UCLA. Would you rather I go there?"

He pipes down for fear that his daughter will threaten to stay in England forever, but he really wants to say _yes._ 'Yes, I would rather you go to a college in this country than all the way across the Atlantic Ocean'. But instead, he says nothing.

"That's what I thought. Sorry, Dad, I gotta go. The tour's about to start. I'll talk to you soon, though. Tell Detective Beckett we say hello. Love you!"

"Love you too, Pumpkin. Have a great time." He sets his phone down and sighs. Man his daughter is going to kill him one day. Speaking of Beckett, he thought he heard the shower going a minute ago, but it's suspiciously silent now. She must be getting ready. He should probably be getting ready by now too.

He jumps in the shower quickly, using the built in seat so that he doesn't fall over. He's doing really well, almost forgets that he needs help for anything, until he turns the shower off and realizes the one thing he forgot.

"Beckett!" He's not sure she'll hear him and almost yells again, but sure enough she comes scurrying into his room.

"What's going on? Are you okay? Oh." He's lucky that the glass in his shower is beveled. Otherwise, he would be showing her a lot more of himself than he's comfortable with right now.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just forgot a towel."

She grabs a towel off of the warming rack.

"Okay. I'm gonna open the door and hand it to you," she says hesitantly.

"No peeking, Beckett."

She laughs. "Don't worry. I'm not you." She opens the door and reaches the towel through.

"Hey, those weren't exactly normal circumstances. Your apartment was on fire."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself, Castle." Despite her promise, she can't help but catch a glimpse of his calves, his knees, and his toned thighs as she slides her gaze up from the floor. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, he has the towel wrapped around his waist before she sees anything untoward.

"I'll be out here if you need anything else," she says before slipping out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. She's perched on the edge of the bed, knees bouncing in anxiety at every noise she hears from behind the door, when she notices his closet. She rises and walks over to it.

It wasn't a secret that he is rich – his apartment is evidence enough of that – but she's truly shocked to see the inside of his closet. It's walk-in, obviously, and a floor to ceiling mirror lines the far wall. She runs her fingers over his dress shirts, which take up almost the whole left side. Next are the sport coats and the dress pants he wears nearly every day.

What surprises her the most, though, is the large section of comfortable tees and plaid button downs. She knew that he had them, has ogled him in them once or twice, but she never really gave any thought to that side of Castle. The comfy side.

Her fingers trip over the fabric, softened by wear, when she notices an NYPD t-shirt shoved in the back of one of his shelves. She pulls it out and wonders when he bought it. Was it when he first started? She questions how long she had the cuffs on Harrison Tisdale before he bounced down to the NYPD gift shop and bought himself the shirt, proclaiming to anyone who would listen that he was a bona-fide member of the police now.

Maybe it wasn't then. Maybe it was after her apartment was blown up. Or after she admitted that she liked having him around. Maybe it was recently, like when she agreed that he was her partner and not just her plucky sidekick.

She hears the bathroom door open. Without any thought, she grabs the t-shirt along with a jacket, pants, and her favorite blue button down and exits the closet. He's sitting on his bed with just the towel wrapped around his waist. His hair has been combed back fairly well, and she can't help but notice that he hasn't shaved. He wasn't wrong when he declared himself ruggedly handsome, especially with the scruff.

He turns to her when he hears her footsteps from the closet.

"Hey, I was wondering where you went," he says with a smile that makes her heart skip a beat.

"I figured if I let you choose your own outfit, you might look like a calico." She places the clothes next to him on the bed.

"Thanks. I hope you picked out something nice."

"Don't trust me, Castle?"

"After the thing with the chair and the coffee machine, I've made it a point never to underestimate your pranking abilities."

"As well you shouldn't," she chuckles. "But I promise you I chose only the best for today." She takes a second to fix some of the rogue hairs that Castle missed while brushing.

He's so surprised to feel her hand in his hair that he grabs her hip to steady himself. When she's satisfied with her handiwork, she moves her hand to his shoulder.

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know that I'm not running from what happened last night. I want to talk to you about it, but we need to leave soon if we're going to make it on time. So, rain check?"

He squeezes her hip in agreement. "Rain check."

"Great. I'm going to go finish getting ready." She leans down, still holding his NYPD t-shirt behind her back with her casted hand, and kisses him lightly on the cheek before leaving. "Let me know if you need any more help."

And then she's gone, and he sits for a moment in silence wondering what if he just imagined their last conversation. She _wants_ to talk about it?

…

The ride to the office is quiet but not uncomfortable. Her thoughts are bouncing all over, and she's sure he's having the same problem.

She really needs to talk to him about the kiss. Needs to assure him that she does care for him, whether or not she's ready to commit. But she can't right now, because they're about to find out if Castle is going to be blind forever, and that's pretty much all they can worry about at this point.

It's all they should _need_ to worry about, she reminds herself.

They don't wait very long for the doctor to arrive, and she's grateful. She's not sure either of them could have handled the unknown for much longer. She was certain one of them would have exploded.

She winces as the doctor shines the light _yet again_ in Castle's eyes. She knows it's necessary, knows that he can't even see it, but she still can't help but feel angry every time he swipes the light by Castle's pupils. Can he just tell them what's going on? Is Castle going to see again?

Since the doctor came into the room, her hand has been in his. She's not sure if it's for her comfort or for his, but she needs the connection to him right now. She thinks she might be just as nervous as he is.

"Well, Mr. Castle. I can tentatively say that I am hopeful," the doctor finally reveals, and he lets out the breath he had been holding. She squeezes his hand.

"What makes you say that?" She asks, knowing that she needs to be the strong one here.

"Despite your lack of sight, you have excellent pupil dilation. Meaning, that your eyes are properly responding to light. Normally, that could mean nothing. Many people who are born permanently blind have perfectly functioning pupils."

"So, why is it good in this case?" She tries not to let the irritation bleed into her voice, but she needs him to explain _faster_.

"When Mr. Castle arrived at the hospital, his pupils did not react to light. That initially made me very nervous, but seeing as they have returned to normal functioning, I am hopeful that you will regain your sight in some capacity."

"Some capacity?" He finally speaks.

"I can't guarantee that you will go back to normal. You may regain some but not all of your sight, or you may regain all of it. It's too soon to tell." The doctor sees the downtrodden look on his patient's face.

"I assure you this is incredibly good news. For now, we can leave the bandages off as long as you wear the proper eye protection. I'd like to see you back here in a week to see if your sight has progressed any. Please don't hesitate to call if you notice any improvement before then." He hands Beckett his card and shakes both of their hands.

"Thanks, doc."

"My pleasure."

They leave the doctor's office with mixed emotions. He had assumed it was an all or none kind of thing. He never imagined that he would be able to _kind of_ see. Is that better than not seeing at all? Or is it more of a tease? Would he rather just stay blind?

He knows dwelling on it won't help him gain his sight back, so he distracts himself with the feel of Beckett's hand in his. She hasn't let it go since the doctor came into the room, and he's not complaining. He knows that she was just as worried as he was; he could feel the tension in her grasp the whole visit.

"So, you need to get back to the precinct?" She looks over at him with his oversized sunglasses and squeezes his hand.

"Yeah. You coming with?"

"I can come?"

"Of course, Castle. I promised you, remember?" He just smiles in her direction. "How about we grab some lunch for the boys and head over?"

"Can we get milkshakes?"

"Of course. Good news calls for a celebration." She moves to go to her car with a spring in her step and tugs him along with her, never severing their connection.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks again for your comments on this story. I don't have a beta, and I miss some things when I'm reviewing, so it's super helpful when you guys let me know where there are errors. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 8

She remembers to turn her phone back on as they step into the elevator, juggling it amongst milkshakes and take out bags from Remy's. The scent of cheeseburgers and fries is almost physical. It tickles and teases every nose they pass, leaving dozens of salivating officers in its wake.

The elevator ding signals their arrival at the homicide floor just as Beckett's phone reveals four new missed calls from Esposito and two from Ryan.

"Yo, Beckett! Where have you been?" She looks up to find Esposito and Ryan walking away from the interrogation room as a uniform shoves a man inside. "I called you like five times."

"Sorry Espo, I had my phone off. Is that Sam Dalton?"

"You bet it is. Our detail caught him trying to sneak back into his house last night. He ran for it, and the unis had some trouble finding him in the dark. Found him in a neighbor's tree house this morning. You want in on the interrogation?"

She looks to Castle in indecision. Of course she wants in on the interrogation, but it's usually her and Castle's thing to go up against someone in the box. As if sensing her reluctance, Castle speaks.

"Go on, Beckett. I'll listen from the observation room."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Just might need some help getting there." He holds out a hand and she grabs it, pulling him up from the seat that has become his over the years. They move unsurprisingly quickly to the observation room, their movements so naturally in sync that even the loss of Castle's sight can't slow them down.

Ryan hangs back with Castle while Beckett and Esposito enter the interrogation room where Dalton is handcuffed.

Sam Dalton is an average sized man with dark eyes and hair the color of ash. He sits with an air of confidence, and Beckett and Esposito share a look. The money is not enough to charge him for murder, and their statement from his cousin is flimsy. He could easily be coerced into retracting his statement, and she refuses to have an arrest overturned because of a change of heart.

They need a confession. Or at least to stall him until uniforms can find the gun he shot Lang with.

Beckett slaps Dalton's case file on the table in front of him. "You've been a hard man to find, Mr. Dalton."

"I didn't know anyone was looking," he replies.

"And why exactly would we _not_ be looking for you?" Beckett folds her hands in front of her.

"Because I haven't done anything wrong."

"Really? Then why did you flee our uniforms at your house."

"I know my wife filed for a restraining order. I just needed to get some of my things from my office."

"And how do you explain the bullet hole in your cousin Elliot?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Dalton just shrugs and looks at her with eyes as cold and as hard as ice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really? So the flashbang you threw at my detectives was just in my imagination?"

He looks down at her casted wrist and smirks. She wants to strangle him. "I guess so, Detective. As far as I know, Elliot is the only person who would have access to that kind of weapon."

His smirk blooms into a sick smile, and he leans back in his chair.

…

"What a sick bastard," Ryan says from behind the glass. "He's just sitting there smiling at her."

"She'll break him. It's Beckett," Castle assures.

"Speaking of Beckett…" Ryan hedges.

"What about her?"

"Is there something going on there?"

"With us?" Castle's eyes go wide.

"Yeah," Ryan says simply, as if the question were not all Castle could ask himself for the last ten hours.

"What? Me and Beckett? Of course not." His tone isn't very convincing.

"You sure? You've been spending a lot of time together."

"She's helping me, Ryan. That's all." His face drops into a small scowl, and Ryan knows there's more to the story.

"Yeah, we saw you together. Very cozy."

"It's nothing." His words are slightly sharp and thrown with a little more force than he intended. "Why do you wanna know anyway?"

"Can I not be curious about my friends?"

"Ryan."

He pauses, but can't stop the words from spilling out. "Esposito and I made a bet."

"On us?" Castle isn't surprised. He's known about the pool for a year now, but it still doesn't keep the anxiety from bleeding into his voice.

"What else is there to bet on around here? We're not allowed to bet on murder."

Castle's scowl sets deeper into his face, and Ryan backs off. He clearly struck a nerve, a nerve that wasn't there a few days ago. Normally, Castle would joke around with them, maybe throw in some money in his favor. But this touchiness tells Ryan that something happened. He's just not sure if it means he gets the money or if Esposito does.

"All jokes aside, we're rooting for you guys," Ryan says quietly. He almost misses it, but Ryan definitely hears Castle breathe out a quiet, "me too."

…

Back in interrogation, Beckett has finally hit a nerve herself.

"What about your son, Mr. Dalton." His eyes open a bit wider and his jaw clenches. Oh yes. She's definitely hit a nerve. "Or should I say, Jack's son."

He slams his cuffed wrists on the table. "He's _my_ son."

"Not according to your wife."

"My wife is a whore!" He spits, his face turning an angry red.

"Must've really pissed you off that she was divorcing you and taking your son," Esposito adds. Dalton just stares, calculating.

"I think that would make anyone angry," he finally says.

"If that happened to me, I'd wanna make the new guy disappear," Esposito says. "Except he wasn't new really."

Beckett grabs the thread that Esposito is weaving. "Did you know about your wife's long lost love?"

He doesn't move to answer.

"Must've been pretty shocking to find that you were the other man your whole life." Dalton's fists subtly clench on the table, but Beckett doesn't miss it. "It must've been terrible to find out that all of those similarities that you saw between you and your son were just coincidences. Things he inherited from Jack."

Dalton still doesn't say anything, but his face continues to redden.

"And y'know, Jack was rich. He had his own fancy office and a brownstone on Fifth Avenue. You just had a cubicle. That must've pissed you off. Your wife was trading up," Esposito digs.

"It's too bad, really. That Danny will never get to know his real father." Beckett adds the final straw. At that point, Dalton breaks. He stands and slams his fists on the table again.

"I'm his real father! That smarmy bastard would never have loved or cared about my son the way I do!"

"And you've made sure he never will," Beckett says.

"Exactly!"

The room goes stone cold silent at his confession.

Dalton looks back and forth between Esposito and Beckett, unable to understand what he just admitted. Uniforms come in to take him away, and the two detectives exit the room. Beckett finds Castle standing outside the observation room door and folds her arm through his in support.

"Good job, Beckett," he says quietly to her. She bumps her hip against his in thanks.

They're almost to her desk when the elevator dings and a harried looking Josh comes running out. "Kate!"

She looks up and her blood turns to ice in her veins. What is he doing here? He's not supposed to be here.

"Josh?" She lets go of Castle just in time for Josh to sweep her up in a bone-crushing hug.

After he's done, he pushes her back and runs his hands along the cuts on her face and the cast on her arm. "Are you okay?"

She nudges his hands away and turns around to find Ryan and Esposito at their desks, watching indiscreetly. Castle makes an attempt to turn around and go anywhere else, but his foot catches on his own chair and he stumbles, just managing to catch himself on her desk before he fell.

"Castle!" She grabs him by the arm to help him into his seat. Once he's there, she whispers, "Be right back," before grabbing Josh's hand and pulling him into the break room. When she looks out the window to see Ryan and Esposito craning their necks to listen in, she shuts the blinds and finally turns to her boyfriend.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your captain called me." He says it with disgust. "Is it really too much for you to call and let me know what happened?" He goes to run his finger along the burn on her face, but she moves away.

"Josh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come."

"It's a little late for that now, Kate." He laughs, but there's no mirth in it. "Funny, I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am. It's just…" She trails off. He grabs her hand and squeezes it.

"What's going on with you?" The softness with which he says it breaks her heart. Josh is a good man. Despite all of this, she knows that is true, and it hurts her that she's about to break his heart.

"Josh, I don't think this is a good idea." He stands still for a moment, just staring at her. Then he clears his throat and looks away.

"Don't think what is a good idea?" He asks, even though she's pretty sure he already knows what she means. She steps closer into his space.

"I don't think _we're_ a good idea." She says it so quietly, that she would fear he didn't hear it if she weren't standing so close. He steps even closer and nudges her nose with his, leaning his forehead against hers and letting out a sigh.

"We can make it work," he says. She lifts a hand to his face and runs it along the stubble on his jaw.

"You know we can't."

"Kate." It's strangled, and it hurts to hear him say her name like that. "I flew nineteen hours to see you."

"I know," she breathes against his mouth. "I'm so sorry. But you shouldn't have to catch a plane to check and see if I'm okay."

"I should be here more often. I could –"

"I can't keep you from doing what you love. I shouldn't. But I also need someone who can be there for me."

"And that's not me," he says dejectedly.

"No. But that's okay. People need you, the work you do." She sighs. "Sometimes you can really care for someone, and it still doesn't work out."

"What do we do now?"

"Now we can move on. You can find someone that will travel with you, and I can find someone who can be here in New York with me."

He pulls her into a hug, and she reciprocates. "I really do care about you, Kate."

"Me too," she mumbles sadly into his chest. When they separate, he grabs her face and places one last kiss on her lips.

"Take care of yourself," he says.

"You too."

He turns to look out at Castle through the break room door. "Let him take care of you, too."

She blushes but nods. Giving him one last kiss on the cheek before he leaves. She watches as he walks to the elevator, giving her a small wave before the doors close. Ryan and Esposito's eyes are glued to her as she walks back over to her desk.

"So, Josh is back," Castle says when she reaches her desk.

"Yeah, for now."

"When does he leave again?"

"I don't know. That's not really something I have to worry about anymore."

He turns his head in her direction. "You broke up?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?" She places her hand on his and squeezes.

"I think I'm going to be just fine."

He squeezes back.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

After her run in with Josh, Beckett was a little bit exhausted, emotionally and physically. Her arm was starting to ache, and filling out the paperwork was slow going. What she wouldn't give to be left-handed right now.

Castle, without normal things like Angry Birds to keep him busy, had kept up constant conversation. She didn't mind, really. It just made her that much more distracted from the already slow process of paperwork.

At some point, she came up with a game. She would write something down on a notepad, and he would run his fingers along the letters to figure out what she put down. The first few sentences were simple. _My name is Kate._ And _I like coffee._

He scoffed at her coffee one. "Beckett, you do not just _like_ coffee. You _love_ coffee. You are practically made of coffee." She gave him a little kick for that one.

As he got better, she left him longer and longer notes. _Lanie thinks I don't know that she and Esposito meet up every Friday night., What if everyone on Earth were bald?, What would Ryan and Esposito look like as cats?_

He laughs at the last one and tries to picture it. Ryan would definitely be fluffy and white. Esposito would probably be Siamese or a cranky Tabby.

"Beckett!" Captain Montgomery calls from his office. She gets up, squeezing his shoulder and dropping another note into his lap. He starts tracing the letters.

No. That can't be what that says. Can it?

* * *

"Go home, Beckett."

"But, sir. I'm almost finished with the paperwork for the Wheatley case."

"Hand it off to the boys and head home. I know your arm is killing you." He gives her a look.

"My wrist is a little sore, but I can finish."

"Don't make me make that an order, Detective. I want you and your shadow to go home. You're on call until Monday."

"Until Monday!?"

Montgomery sighs. "Kate, you and Castle went through a traumatic experience." She goes to say something, but he stops her with a hand. "What you need now is to rest. We can do without you for the rest of the week. And when you come back, I expect you to be at the top of your game." He smiles at her, but she can only manage a grimace back.

"Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about that. About Castle. If his sight doesn't return…" She trails off and runs her uninjured hand through her hair. Montgomery senses the direction she's going.

"Rick Castle is a part of our team. He will always be welcome here, at whatever capacity he can help."

The assurance almost brings tears to her eyes. After these past few days of ups and downs, it takes a great weight off her shoulders to know that Castle's position in the twelfth is safe.

"Thank you, sir."

"Anytime. Now get out of here."

* * *

 _You would still be handsome if you were bald._ Did she really write that?

He runs his finger over and over the words, but that's the only thing he can come up with. Maybe he's reading into it. Maybe she's just kidding. But she did admit that she finds him handsome.

"Come on, Castle. We're going home."

His stomach flutters at the phrasing. Beckett is coming home with him. To his home. _Home._

He can hear her grabbing her things and putting on her coat, so he stands and grabs his own jacket from the back of the chair.

"Home?"

"Yeah. Captain says we're benched until Monday." He can hear the disgust dripping off of the word Monday.

"That's only three days. I'm sure we can find something to entertain ourselves with."

She rolls her eyes at him and grabs his hand to lead him to the elevator. He wants to mention the note she left. What does it mean exactly? He internally scoffs at himself. _Castle, you sound like a girl. Pull yourself together._

They stop at her apartment after they leave the precinct. She leaves him on the couch while she goes to her bedroom to pack a few more clothes and water her plants. When they arrive back at his loft, she ushers him over to his own couch.

"Wait here."

He hears her rustling in her bag for something before plopping down on the couch beside him. She drops something in his lap. He grabs it and runs his fingers over it.

It's a book. And it's one of his, based on the elevated letters pronouncing his name at the bottom. He runs his fingers over the title. In a Hail of Bullets.

"It's my book," he states with furrowed brows.

"Open it."

He opens the book to a few pages in where he finds writing. He can't make it out, the cursive letters too elusive for his unpracticed fingers.

"I signed it? When?"

"Winter of 2001."

"You were what, twenty-one then?"

"Mhm."

He runs his fingers over the words again. "I can't believe this. I can't believe I met you, and I don't even remember it."

She laughs a bit at his melodramatic tone and leans her head against his shoulder. "Of course you don't. It was years ago, and there were hundreds of people in that line."

"Still. I should remember you."

After a long moment of pouting, she grabs his hand. "I didn't show you this to upset you."

"Then why did you show me this, Kate?"

She takes a deep breath and lets it loose, hoping that the tension in her body would float away with it. "After my mom died, I was in a bad place. My dad wouldn't stop drinking. He stopped going to work, and the bills started piling up." He places his hand over hers.

"We were still living in my old house, but my dad slept in the guest room. He couldn't bear to stay in their room anymore. So sometimes, after a bad day, I would go up to their room and look through her stuff or snuggle up with her pillow."

She takes another breath to steady herself.

"You don't have to tell me this."

"No, I do. It's something you deserve to know." He wisely stays silent after that, letting her work through whatever she needs to work through in order to continue. He rubs small, slow circles over the back of her hand.

"I found one of your books in the drawer of her nightstand. In a Hail of Bullets. I had always teased her about reading them." She lets out a small laugh. "I was a little snooty about books, and when she told me to check yours out, I told her I only read 'legitimate literature'." She snorts again. "God, I was such a brat back then."

He takes his hand from hers and wraps it around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side. "You were just a kid."

"Yeah. I guess. Well, I found this book, and I started reading it. It wasn't half bad, and I hated myself for thinking that. I read it twice in one week." She pauses for a moment, rolling the words around in her head, trying to get them right. "It made me feel so close to her. To know that she had touched the pages and laughed at the same things I had laughed at. Cried at the same parts as me.

"After a while, it stopped being about my mom. Well, no. It was always about my mom. But it wasn't about being close to her and connecting with her. It became about justice. The good guy always won, and I needed that in my life. I needed that reminder."

"I'm glad that I could do that for you, Kate. But why are you telling me this?"

She turns toward him and puts her hand on his cheek. "It's part one of the many apologies I owe you, Castle."

"You don't –" She covers his mouth with her hand.

"I do. So, part one is this." She places her hand on the book. "You've been a huge part of my life before I even met you, and your books have tugged me out of the rabbit hole more times than I can even count."

He whimpers a bit at that. At the thought of a young Kate drowning in her life with no one to help her. The arm that was over her shoulder moves to her jaw line.

"I have walls, Castle. Walls that I created to protect myself when my mother died. Walls that were meant to keep everyone and everything out. But somehow you got past them, or maybe you were always there. I don't know. If you get anything from what I'm saying, just know that I couldn't be more grateful that you're here with me."

"I'll always be there for you. You know that, right?"

He can feel more than see her smile. He feels the upturning of her lips on his fingertips. She stretches up, and she's kissing him. It's not like the other night, where grief gripped him whole and poured out of him and into her.

This kiss is light, like fairy wings dusting across his mouth. She leans in closer, deepening the kiss, and he moves his hand to fist his fingers in her hair, shifting her to the right angle.

He can't believe this is happening. This is Kate. Just Kate. Not the detective persona she puts on every morning. Not the girl with walls that shelter her from the world. It's just Kate, and she's kissing him because she _wants_ to be.

The kiss slows to a stop and she leans her forehead against his, the two of them sharing air in the few inches between their lips.

"Would you really find me handsome if I was bald?"

She laughs and kisses him again. Shorter. Familiar. Like a kiss that married couples would give each other before heading off to work.

"I would."

"Does this mean I should shave my head?"

She runs her fingers through his hair and pulls his face to hers for another kiss. "No." She lets out between kisses.

They stay like that for a while. Cuddled together and taking from each other's lips when they feel the need. At some point, Castle's hand lands on the book, which has tumbled from his lap and onto the couch next to him.

When they break apart, he grabs it and runs his finger over the inscription again.

"What did I write?"

"Hmm?"

"In the book?"

"Oh." She grabs it from him and copies his actions, running her fingers over the inscription that she has had memorized for years. "The only way round is through."

"Frost? I couldn't even write my own words?"

"I like it. It was exactly what I needed at the time." He tugs her closer to him, so that she's practically sprawled across his lap. His nose nudges at the crease between her shoulder and neck, and he places a light kiss there.

"Well then I'm glad I wrote it. I'm glad I could be there."

She lifts her head from his shoulder and kisses him again. He responds eagerly, and they're lost in each other once again.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, this one is a little shorter. I started school this week, so updates may not come every Wednesday like I planned. I want to make sure that what I post is something that I believe is natural and right for the characters, instead of writing haphazardly just to make sure I post on time. I promise I will continue to write this, and I will do my best to post on Wednesdays as I do normally. Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

They spend the rest of the evening sprawled out together on Castle's soft leather couch, just talking and stealing kisses when needed. She gets up only once to microwave their leftovers from last night before returning to him.

It's almost disgustingly cute to her how right it feels to just _be_ with Castle. They don't have to do anything to entertain themselves, don't need a movie or a game to spice up their evening. They are just happy to exist with each other.

She takes a deep breath, her nose inhaling his scent from where she's lying against his chest. He smells of books and sandalwood and him. It's heady, and it's putting her to sleep. She yawns, and he runs a hand through her hair.

"Bed time?"

She knows that he means to sleep, but she has other plans. As they stand, she catches his lips in a heated kiss and starts moving him backwards towards the door between the living room and his bedroom.

"Beckett." He breaks the kiss to say her name, but they're not apart for long. She dives back in after the t's in her name snap off his tongue.

"Kate." He stops their movement and holds her face between his hands. She looks up at him, and realizes how tense he is.

"What's wrong?" He sighs and runs his hand down her cheek. "Castle, do you not want this?"

"What? No—That's not –" He growls at his inability to explain. "I just don't want it to be like this."

She bites her lip and grabs his hand from her face to hold it in her own.

She can't help it. Her brain immediately goes to all the worst scenarios. He doesn't want her. He just wants to be friends. He feels like this is moving too fast. Something.

"Be like what?" She tries to keep the hurt and worry from bleeding into her voice. He squeezes her hand before pulling her close and hiding his face in her hair.

"I want to be able to see you."

She breathes out against his shoulder and runs her hand down his back. "Oh, Castle."

"I'm sorry," he says.

She pulls back and grabs his face between her hands. She knows that he can't see her, but she looks into his eyes anyway, hoping that maybe she could translate how she feels to some intangible force. Something that can burst through her eyes and into his head. His heart.

"Don't you ever be sorry for this." He nods, but she feels like there's more there.

"You know that I don't care about your sight, right?" He leans forward so that their foreheads are touching. "You could never regain it, and it wouldn't stop me from wanting to be with you. You have to believe that."

He kisses her, and it's more powerful than any of the kisses they've previously shared. He didn't realize how much he needed to hear it, but her words soothe something in him. They get lost in shared breath and the caressing of lips, and it's her that stops them this time.

"If you really don't want to do this, we have to stop. Or I'm not going to be able to." She breathes it against his mouth, and he groans.

"I want to, I just…" She runs her hand over his lower back, swirling patterns with her fingertips, and he presses into her.

"You know what they say about the senses, don't you?" She smirks against his lips. "When you lose one, all the rest are heightened." She lightly brushes her lips against his, and it sends tingles from his lips to his toes.

"Really?" He asks as they begin to slowly move back toward his bedroom, lips still brushing against each other.

"Mhmm." They move through the doorway without stumbling, to her surprise.

"Care to test that theory?"

"Mhmm." She gives him one last kiss and pushes him down onto the sheets.

* * *

She awakens to bright shards of light seeping through the open curtains and internally groans. In their frenzy last night, they must've forgotten to close them. She turns around and curls into the warm body next to her.

Last night was amazing. He navigated her body like an expert, finding _those_ spots without any help. It was probably the most incredible, most spiritual moment of her life. She rolls her eyes at herself for thinking it, but there really is something about the bond they share. Something more than just a physical connection. Something intangible and ineffable and _right_.

She smiles into his shoulder blade as he shifts slightly, crawling his way into consciousness.

"Damn, it's bright," are his first words. He's laying face down, and the words are mumbled into his pillow. He rolls over and grabs her up, spooning behind her and snuggling his face into her shoulder to hide from the incoming light.

"What did you just say?" He groans in response, still not completely awake. She breaks their connection and turns around to look at him in the eyes. "Castle, wake up."

"What?" He whines.

"Castle, can you see?" He finally jolts into consciousness with her question and looks at her for the first time.

"Castle?" She's getting impatient, and he's not responding, just staring at her in a way that feels like he's really looking.

"Kind of," he mumbles as he strains his eyes a bit. He reaches up to palm her cheek.

"What do you mean kind of? Castle." She's the one whining now. The hope is spilling out of her, and she's trying to make sure it stays hidden inside. She doesn't want to get her hopes up if this isn't progress.

"You're a shadow, but I can see your shape. And your eyes." He makes his point by leaning toward her and placing his forehead against hers. Her eyes look blurry, not even his perfectly functioning eyes could focus that close, but he can see the colors vaguely. Where the white of her eye meets the dark iris. "And the sun is really damn bright."

She laughs through the tears in her eyes and grabs his sunglasses. He swats them away.

"No. I want to see you."

"Stop. You're going to damage your eyes more." She finally gets the glasses on his face, and he pouts. "You gotta wear these if you want to get better." She lightly nips his protruding lower lip before soothing it with her own tongue.

"Fine." His lips meet hers again, and he starts to lay her back down, but she stops him.

"You have to call Dr. Michaels."

"Wanna do this," he says before running his tongue across her upper lip. He does a pretty good job of distracting her, and it's not until he separates from her mouth and starts kissing down her body that she comes back to herself.

"Call the doctor." It's breathy and has no authority behind it at all. She uses her foot to push on his shoulder, which finally removes his distracting mouth from the skin of her hip with a pop.

"Kaaaaaate."

"No. Doctor first. Then, this."

He harrumphs, leaving her with one last kiss before seeking out his boxers on the floor. She hands him his phone and dons his shirt before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.

She starts the coffee maker when she finally hears him speaking with Dr. Michaels' receptionist. While she waits, she stares out across the loft. The place she has been sleeping for two nights, and yet this morning it seems so different.

She's being sappy, she knows. But the feeling she's getting from being in someone else's space is new to her. Instead of discomfort, she feels home. She doesn't care that the bed isn't hers and that the light doesn't float through the windows like it does at her place. She likes the manly aesthetic and the sun saturated colors. It's warm and it's him.

The coffee finishes, and she uses his fancy espresso machine to steam some milk. She's finishing a little, foamy heart on the top of his latte when he comes into the kitchen. He drops a kiss onto her head when she hands it to him.

He can't see the heart, but she's kind of grateful. She's not sure that she's ready to share these overwhelming feelings with him just yet. Isn't sure she wants to do anything to upset the balance they've just only discovered. Besides, words were always his thing. He knows how to weave them together and make them sound perfect and beautiful.

Hers always seem to come out charred and mangled, never like she intended them to be. She'd rather just show him in touches and coffee.

Although, as he runs his hand up and down her back and sips his latte, she thinks that maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea to tell him. Maybe they're closer to the same page than she thinks.

"How'd it go?"

"Well. He thinks it's already great progress and wants to see me in a couple of days."

"And?" She taps the sunglasses on his face.

"And I have to wear my sunglasses," he says with a pout. She kisses it off of him, and he spills a bit of his coffee onto her shoulder, bare where his t-shirt had slipped.

"Oops. I got it." Instead of reaching for a paper towel he swipes his tongue across her collarbone, where the liquid had started to run. She noticeably shivers, and he smiles against her chest.

He begins laying light kisses up toward her neck. "So, I called Dr. Michaels."

"You did."

"Do you remember what you agreed?" She huffs out a half laugh half sigh as he begins sucking on her pulse point. Her knees wobble a bit, and he steadies her with an arm around her back.

"Are you sure you're not—," she sucks in a breath as he moves up behind her earlobe, "—hungry?"

"Oh. I'm definitely hungry."

She swats his shoulder for that, but her hand quickly moves to his back as he pulls her in for a slow kiss.

His hand slides down her hip to her thigh, and he tugs, pulling her up into his arms. She wraps her legs around his waist, aligning them in all the right places. One of them moans, although she can't tell which one of them it was, and Castle begins walking them toward the bedroom.

"Is this okay?" She mumbles in between kisses.

"I'm fine, Beckett." He wobbles a bit which causes her to emit a girlish squeal.

"Castle! Can you even see where you're going?"

"I don't need to. I can feel the right direction," he says as he runs her into the back of the couch, nearly toppling the little silver dog from its perch on the table.

"Rick, put me down."

"No. We're gonna make it." He kisses her again, momentarily wiping the worry from her mind with the swirl of his tongue. "I swear, we're gonna make it."

They only make it as far as the couch, but neither of them is complaining.

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading/following/favoriting/reviewing etc! I promise I'm going to respond to the reviews as soon as I can! When I started this, I had planned for it to be 10 chapters, but I have a little bit left that I'd like to explore, so there's still more coming. Let me know what you thought of this one!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The rest of the day is spent lazing around and watching tv in between rounds of love-making. He thought that having Beckett once would fufill his dreams forever, but his need for her is insatiable now. He looks over at her as the morning sun flows over her skin like honey, giving it a gentle, golden shine.

They're lying in his bed after round three for the day, and he likes to think he thoroughly exausted her. She's on her stomach facing toward him, sheets pooled over her hips. Every other breath, she lets out a small high pitched sound. It's adorable.

His eyesight is a bit better today. Shadows have become brighter, and colors are starting to peak through He couldn't be more grateful to whatever higher power that allowed him to be able to see Kate Beckett as he made love to her. He was truly afraid he'd never be able to.

So, he just lies there and watches her breathe, soaking in every minute of this moment.

He can't believe it. He can't believe he has this woman in his life, much less his bed. She's not perfect, but that's why he loves her. He thinks that might be why his other marriages didn't work out. His ex-wives were perfect, until they weren't.

He and Beckett have been through hell and back together. In that journey, they've seen every part of one another. All of the ugly demons have come out, and they made it through. They're human, and they're not perfect. But they're perfect to each other, and that's all that matters.

His hand twitches on the bed. He can't stop touching her and wanting to be close to her. They could stay in this bed forever, and he wouldn't care. He never wants to face this world without her by his side.

He moves his hand up to her back, the skin warm from the sun. He traces his fingers along her muscles. She's so strong, inside and out. It's one of the things that drew him to her on that first case. He starts to trace patterns, swirls his fingertips from one freckle to the other, mapping constellations on her back.

Soon, he's writing words. Everything that he thinks about her, about them. Things he has told her in the past and things he wishes he could tell her. Like how extraordinary she is and how much he loves her. How much he never wants them to be apart. How he wants them to be forever.

She starts to rouse as he writes, but he doesn't notice. He's writing the same phrase over and over again, as if he could tattoo it onto her skin with only his fingertips.

She groans a little and opens one eye. Her mouth turns up in a crooked smile when she sees him watching her, his finger still tracing the same words over and over.

"Mmm. Hey." She reaches over to thread her fingers through his hair.

"Hey. Sleep well?"

"Mhmm. Best sex ever." She closes her eyes and lays her head back down into the pillow after that and he chuckles at her. Only a sleepy Kate Beckett would ever admit that to him, but he's thankful anyway.

"Love y'too, Castle," she mumbles.

What?!

He must have said it out loud, because she laughs and reaches back to still his fingers. "What you were writing."

He thinks back to the phrase he was writing, and he realizes that he gave it away sooner than he wanted. The words 'I Love You' spill from his fingers onto her skin. He's only disappointed that his first time telling her wasn't out loud.

She scoots over closer to him and gives him an uncoordinated kiss.

"You're not upset?"

She looks up at him, and the sleepy clouds in her eyes disperse. "Why would I be mad?"

He looks away in embarrassment.

"What, Castle?"

"I just… It's so soon, and we haven't even talked about what we are—" She cuts him off with another kiss, this one much more conscious than the previous.

"We're partners." He looks at her face, still a little blurry to his eyes, and searches for meaning.

"Does that mean I'm your boyfriend?"

She snorts at the words, but nods. "I'm sorry that I gave you any reason to doubt that. I don't want to be with anyone else." She pauses for a moment. "I love you." It's quiet, so quiet, but he hears her.

The words bring tears to his eyes, and he does his best to will them away. He lets out a shaky breath and cradles her face in his palm. He rubs his thumb underneath her eye, smudging it over the little freckle that resides there.

"I'm so in love with you, Beckett." He rolls over her gently, pouring all of the love and feeling he can into his kiss. She responds eagerly, and it's the beginning of who knows what round when her phone rings. She grabs it and checks the number.

"It's my dad." He stops kissing his way up her neck and groans.

"Well, that's a mood killer." He gets off of her and grabs his boxers off of the ground before putting them on. He gives her a kiss on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

She's not on the phone for long, and she's fully clothed when she emerges from the bedroom and walks into the kitchen.

"Beckeeeeett," he whines at her, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her in when she gets close enough. "Too many clothes."

She puts her arms around his neck. "We can't just lay around all day."

"Yes we can." He leans in for a kiss. She grants it, but keeps it chaste.

"We can't. I'm going to go crazy all cooped up in here."

"Fine." He trudges back to his bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

They're walking hand and hand through central park when he tugs her off the path to the grass. They find a large rock, and he pulls her down to sit next to him. She laughs a little bit at his uncoordinated man-handling.

He's obviously got something on his mind, and that combined with his still blurry vision makes for an ungraceful half-fall onto the ground. She practically ends up in his lap by the end of it all, but she doesn't mind.

"What's up, Castle?" He pretends as if his flop was intentional and holds her tighter as she tries to get off his lap.

"Castle." She struggles, but finally gives in and leans back against his chest as he laughs quietly in her ear. She huffs, but gives him a kiss on the cheek.

"What did your dad want to talk about?"

"Nothing. Just checking in."

"Does he know about what happened?"

She sighs. "No."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"I don't want to worry him."

He shifts her off his lap so that he can see her face better. "Kate, as someone who is also a father, believe me. He already worries."

"All the more reason to save him the stress."

He sighs and leans his head back against the rock. "Kate."

The fall wind whips past them and crawls underneath her scarf. She shivers. She would love to scoot closer and share his warmth, but the tension radiating off of him makes her pause. "Castle, my family dynamic isn't the same as yours, and that's okay."

"It's not okay." She looks affronted. He's always been so sweet about her mother's death and her relationship with her father, so she's a little bit hurt by the lack of understanding. "You can't – You need –" He growls at his inability to speak, so he pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her.

"I know you don't want him to worry, but it kills me a little to know that you won't share when you're hurting. You don't have to be alone."

She leans her head on his shoulder. "I'm not alone." He huffs at her.

"I will always be there for you, Kate. But if you won't…" He pauses, takes a deep breath, and tries again. "If you can't…" He stops. He doesn't know how to say what he needs to say without offending her.

"If I can't tell my father what's going on in my life, then how could I tell you?" She finishes for him. He has a pained look on his face, eyebrows scrunched together so hard that she's afraid there will be permanent lines there. She runs her finger across his forehead, smoothing the creases he's creating.

"It's okay. You're allowed to ask me stuff like this, Castle. I know I'm not the most open, and sometimes I forget that you need the words."

"I don't-"

"You do, and I should've been more receptive to that. I'm not perfect, but I can't fix whatever is bothering you if you don't tell me."

He pulls her closer so that her legs are across his lap once again. "I think you're perfect."

She laughs and runs her hand across his three-day stubble. "You're ridiculous."

"I just want you to be happy."

She beams at him for that. "I just want _you_ to be happy. Which means telling me when you aren't. I know I haven't done the best job of showing you, but I'm one hundred percent in this. You don't have to worry about scaring me away."

He kisses her instead of speaking, thanking her for taking a weight he didn't even know he was holding off of his shoulders. He realizes that maybe their miscommunications have been partly his fault. Sure, she doesn't talk much about her feelings or what she's comfortable with, but he certainly never asked.

This talk gives him a newfound confidence to ask the question he has been wondering since this morning.

"Did you tell your dad about us?"

"Not yet. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

He leans his head against hers, which has found its place on his shoulder. "Part of me wants to scream it from the rooftops." She laughs at him for that and nuzzles a little bit into his shoulder. "But the other part of me doesn't want anyone to know. I just want to stay in this bubble with you forever."

"Me too," she exhales against his neck, and they're both quiet for a moment. It doesn't escape him that their position behind the rock is a perfect metaphor for how they're feeling, and part of him doesn't even want to move from this position.

"But they're going to find out eventually," she mumbles against his shirt.

"I suppose. Lanie and the boys have thought we were dating since day one. Let's let them figure it out."

"Serves them right for all the teasing." He tugs her closer, if that's possible, and places a kiss on the tip of her nose. "What about Alexis and Martha?"

"We still have four days until they come back. We can come up with a game plan."

She makes a noise that sounds vaguely like agreement and runs her hand across the grass behind her. She tugs on a blade and pulls it up to look at it, twirling it around in her fingers before drawing imaginary characters on her jeans with it.

"Kate?" She looks up at him. "Is something wrong?"

She shrugs and her hair brushes against his chin. He sweeps it over her other shoulder while he waits for her to speak.

"Do you think Alexis will be mad?"

"Mad?"

"About us."

"Why would she be mad about us?"

She makes a noise of disbelief. "Rick, you know why. Don't pretend like she doesn't hate me."

"Hate you? I think that's a little bit of an overstatement."

"It's not. You didn't see her in the hospital. She wouldn't even speak to me. I know she doesn't trust me, and she blames me for you getting hurt. What else would you call that?"

"Kate-"

"And I don't even blame her for it. If I were her, I'd feel the same way. I put you in all of these dangerous situations, and I forget that you're not a cop sometimes."

He goes to say something else, but she places three fingers on his lips.

"I know what happened to you was not my fault, but we have been in near death situations too many times. I've almost lost you so many times, Castle. That never would have happened if you were just a writer."

She runs the fingers that previously shushed him across his mouth. He kisses them.

"Can I speak now?"

"You may," she says with a smile.

"You're right. None of that would have happened if I was just a writer." Her head drops to his shoulder, and she lets out a deep sigh. "But, we also wouldn't be here if I was just a writer." She looks up at him in confusion.

"I was a jerk when we met. I know I was, and you… this work has changed me. Sure, I stick around, because you're my best friend and I love you, but I also love doing work that means something. I know I'm not a cop, but I like to think that I've helped bring closure to a few families."

"You have. That and more."

"So, please. Don't feel guilty, because I would never have become someone that you would want to be with if I never had those experiences. I wouldn't be able to do this-" He leans in slightly to kiss her. "- if we hadn't had a few close calls."

She sighs against them and says the only thing her brain can come up with in this moment. "I love you."

"Love you, too. And as far as Alexis goes, she's just scared. All she's ever wanted was for me to be happy, and once she sees how over the moon crazy I am about you, I think she'll come around."

"Yeah." She practically exhales the word, and it's enough for him, but it doesn't stop the churning in her stomach at the thought of facing Alexis in four days.

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry about the late-ness of this one. You guys don't care about the busy-ness of my life, so I'm not gonna bore you with that. I'm just going to say that I'll do better at posting on time next Wednesday (or another day next week if I run a little late).

This chapter seems so off to me after watching 'XX'. I'm going to continue writing my version of the characters, because they don't break my little heart like that episode did. That being said, I'm interested to see what direction the writers are going to go with that storyline this season.

Either way, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter/the direction the story is going. We're winding down now, but I'm working on better organization of plot, so I'd love to hear any comments you have on characters, plot, general story things, cliches I'm using, etc. Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: First, thank you all so much for your continued support of this story. I feel awful about not being able to respond to reviews, but know that I appreciate and consider every single one of the comments that were left.

Second, sorry about the timeline weirdness on this story. I never really specifically set it anywhere but "the middle of 3", but with this chapter, I've come to a conclusion about where it sits. There is one sentence in one of the previous chapters that negates where I left this, but just bear with me on this. I so wish that I could go back and reorganize this story, but that's okay. I'll do my best with what I have here.

Hope you enjoy. I would love to hear your thoughts about this chapter, any chapter in the past, or the story as a whole. Feedback helps me improve, so I really love and appreciate it.

* * *

She wakes to a feeling of unease. It's early, so early the sun's rays haven't popped over the horizon yet. He's strong and solid behind her, snoring slightly as his breath ruffles little pieces of her hair. Normally, she'd relax back into the comfort of his body, but this feeling she has makes the arms around her waist feel like a vice, his breath suffocating her.

She carefully extracts herself from his hold and waits to make sure he's not going to wake up. When he snuffles and turns over, she knows he's well and truly out, so she pads her way to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Two cups and three chapters of Heat Wave later, the feeling of unease hasn't left her. She closes the book and places it on the coffee table before standing. Her bones creak with weariness, the last few days finally taking their toll on her. She rotates her wrist a bit and only feels a twinge of pain.

She walks over to the large windows near his piano and looks out at the SoHo streets. It's emptier than during the day, but there are still plenty of early risers ensuring that the city has truly been up all night. The first rays of sunlight peek over Broome Street and its early morning inhabitants.

She takes a sip from her cup of water when her phone vibrates in the pocket of her robe. The number isn't one she recognizes, but she answers anyway.

"Beckett."

"Detective Beckett?" Comes a voice from the other side. It's male and vaguely familiar, but she can't place it.

"Yeah?"

"This is John Raglan. I was the lead investigator in your mother's homicide twelve years ago."

The blood runs cold in her veins and her heart speeds up. "I remember you, Detective Raglan."

"Listen, I…" He trails off. She hangs on those two words, waiting for the rest to follow, like a shark who's been given just a taste of blood. "We need to talk about your mother's case. There's something you don't know. There's a coffee shop at fourth and main. Meet me there in an hour. Just you. No cops."

He hangs up then, before she's even agreed. But he must know her or have heard about her reputation to be so certain.

Her first thought is to wake Castle, but she stops herself. Raglan said just her, and Castle still isn't one hundred percent. Not by a long shot.

No, she won't wake him. She'll meet with Raglan and be back before he's even awake. She quietly changes, grabs her keys, and leaves the apartment.

* * *

Castle wakes to a voice. No, wait. Voices. He tries to dig through the fog in his brain, but he's having trouble. He's about to fall back to sleep when a body hits his.

"Dad!" The jolt to his system wakes him up enough to recognize the long, blurry red hair covering his face.

"Alexis?" He responds, still groggy. "Am I in Europe?"

"We came back early. I thought she was going to worry a hole in her head," comes the voice of his mother from the doorway. "How are you feeling, darling?"

He sits up in bed, and Alexis eases up from her bear hug.

"Better. Much better. Everything is just a little blurry now." He runs his hands through Alexis's hair, and she beams at him.

He looks around and notices that something, or rather someone, is missing. "Where's Beckett?"

His mother gives him a look. "I assume up in the guest room sleeping."

"Right," he says, his brow still furrowed in confusion.

They all move to the kitchen where Castle, with Alexis' help, starts making smiley face pancakes. He shoos her away a few times, telling her that he doesn't need to see well to make pancakes, but she takes over after he burns the first batch.

After being fired from breakfast duty, he ambles up the stairs to see if Beckett really is in the guest room. His intuition tells him no. If she were in the apartment, she would've been in bed with him this morning. The thought sinks like a lead ball in his stomach. Where could she have gone? And why didn't she tell him?

After proving his suspicions, he walks back downstairs with a puzzled look still on his face.

"What's the matter, Richard? Is she not here?" He looks over at Alexis first, who is very pointedly scowling at the skillet.

"I guess not." He runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm sure she'll turn up," Martha says, ever the optimist.

Just then, his phone rings. He looks down at the caller I.D. and pauses. Ryan is calling, and he has a strange feeling that it's not going to be good.

* * *

When he arrives, he searches for her amidst the crime scene technicians and officers milling about. The flashing lights disorient him, as if they're grabbing onto his eyeballs and flinging them in different directions.

He weaves through the people, trying to catch a glimpse of her eyes or her hair with his limited vision. Finally, he sees a woman standing with her back towards him speaking to Montgomery. Even without his full sight, he would know her anywhere.

He picks up his pace, accidentally shoving a few people aside in his mad dash to get to her.

"Beckett!"

She turns around just as he reaches her, grabbing her around the waist and bringing her into a hug. She returns it for a moment, before pushing him back. He realizes that he might have given them away already.

"Castle, what are you doing here? You should be resting."

"Ryan called me."

She pauses, uncertain how much she wants to say with her Captain behind her. Luckily, he pats her on the shoulder and walks over to the mob of flashing lights and paparazzi to give his statement.

"What the hell were you thinking, Kate?"

"He had information about my mother's case. I had to meet him."

"But alone?" He lowers his voice a bit. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I needed to go… I just… I wasn't thinking."

"Right." The disappointment spreads over his face.

Anger flares up inside of her. "You know me, Castle. You know what this means to me, and I told you what it took for me to put it away years ago. Why are you acting like I betrayed you?"

"Because we're together now," he blurts. "I thought that we meant something."

"We do. How could you question that?"

"Because you didn't think. You got up this morning and didn't think about me. You went and met Raglan and you didn't think about me." He pauses and takes a ragged breath. "He was shot right in front of you, Kate. You could have died, and I never would have known."

"I couldn't have known what was going to happen!"

At her exclamation, the fight drains out of both of them. "This isn't the place for this."

Castle looks around at the few people hanging onto their conversation after her outburst. "Fine. Let's go back to the loft and talk." He lightly grabs her hand, and she pulls away.

"I can't. I have to go to the precinct."

"You're working the case." It's not a question, and the lack of emotion in his voice tells her exactly how he feels about it.

"I have to."

"Then, I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

"I told you I'm with you, and I meant it. No matter how pissed I am."

She steps closer to him and grabs his hand. "I'm sorry, Rick, but please. Go back home."

He steps closer to her. "Why don't you want me with you? Why are you closing yourself off?"

"I do want you with me, but I can't. I can't bring you into this. Please, go home. Rest. I'll see you tonight."

Their eyes meet, and he's close enough to see hers shine. His words clearly aren't enough, so he tries to show her how much he wants to be here, needs to be here, with his eyes. She doesn't bite though. She just walks to the curb and throws out an arm.

A cab stops, and she ushers him over. He doesn't meet her eyes as he gets in and the cab drives off.

She stands there and watches the cab as it turns the corner out of her sight. She considers grabbing another taxi and going after him, but Ryan taps on her shoulder to let her know CSU has found the trajectory of the bullet. She turns around to follow him back into the diner.

* * *

He enters the loft and slams the door, causing Alexis to jump from her place at the barstool. He walks straight to his office, only stumbling a bit along the way. When he gets there, he slumps into his leather chair with a frown. He considers grabbing a pint of bourbon to drown his sorrows a bit, but before he can get back up, he sees Alexis hovering outside of the doorway.

"You can come in, Pumpkin."

She slowly enters the office. "Are you okay, Dad?"

He slumps into his chair a little more, embarrassed about the teenager-like display he just put on. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a little upset."

She looks up at him with worried eyes. "Is Detective Beckett okay?"

He sits up. He didn't even think about how this would look to his daughter. When he had gotten the call from Ryan, he had grabbed his coat and sunglasses and was out the door before he could give his mother and Alexis a proper explanation. He just threw, "It's Beckett," behind him before flying out of the apartment. Of course she thinks something horrible has happened.

 _Well,_ the voice in his head whispers, _hasn't it?_

"She's fine. She just…" He considers how much to tell his daughter. She's always been his confidant, but she's still so young. And considering how she's been feeling about Beckett these days, he doesn't want to paint Kate in a bad light, no matter how mad he is at her right now. "She got a call from the detective who worked her mother's case."

"What did he want?"

"Well, he wanted to meet up with her. To tell her something about the case."

She stares at him for a moment, calculating the situation. "You're hiding something."

"It's complicated…"

"Is it complicated, or do you just not want to tell me?" She stands a bit straighter and crosses her arms across her chest.

It's scary how much his daughter looks like Beckett right now. The women in his life are going to kill him.

"It's not… Alexis…"

She doesn't let him off the hook, just stares at him with her arms folded. He's starting to get a headache from straining his eyes. The arguments with Beckett and his daughter certainly aren't helping.

"He was shot." Her eyes go wide. "While they were talking."

Alexis steps forward. "So, you immediately go running?! What if you had been shot next?"

"Alexis it's not like that."

"It is! Every day that you spend with her is a chance you'll die, and for what? Because of a crush?"

"Because I love her!"

The room is eerily silent as the two face off. Alexis has tears running down her face at this point, and it hurts him to know that he made his baby girl cry.

"Maybe you do. But does she?"

He doesn't say anything then. Just yesterday, Beckett had said those three magical words to him, but Alexis's question causes him to pause. Does she? Did she really mean it?

He kicks himself for that. Of course she means it, but does she mean it like he means it?

He loves her. He loves her more than all the heartache and danger and disappointment they've experienced. He loves her more than he loves mysteries and stories and even writing. He loves her more than anything in this world besides Alexis.

But does she love him that way? Does she love him more than her mother's murder?

"That's what I thought," his daughter says before spinning and walking up the stairs to her room, slamming the door as she goes.

He sits down on the couch with a thump, thoughts of Beckett swirling around in his head. He sits there for a few minutes, thinking over every interaction they've had since they officially got together, but he comes to no conclusion.

He straightens for a moment, and then stands as fast as he sat down. If he knows one thing, he's not going to sit here and wonder. He's going to go find out.

* * *

When he exits the elevator into the bullpen, he doesn't see her at her desk. Esposito and Ryan are missing too. He goes to sit in his normal chair when he sees Ryan and Esposito run from the observation room into the interrogation room at break-neck speed.

He steps closer to see what is happening, but there's too much movement, and his eyes can't catch the details. Suddenly, Kate comes storming out of the room. Their gazes lock, but she continues moving until she's up the stairs and out of sight.

Rick turns around for a moment to see Ryan and Esposito escorting a large, black man out of the room. He steps into the doorway of the interrogation room and sees the mirror. It's splintered in a circular pattern, as if someone was shoved up against it.

He doesn't have to guess to know what happened.

He turns then and follows her path up the stairs. There's really only one place he knows she'll be. For being such a mystery, she is still fairly predictable.

He hears her before he sees her, the grunts and pounding that come from the gym indicating her mood. He steps into the room and sees her wailing on a punching bag. Her hands are haphazardly taped, and her right hand is cradled protectively against her chest, while her left fist and right foot pound combinations on the bag.

Suddenly, with one last roundhouse kick she falls to the floor, cradling her injured hand and putting her head between her knees. He takes that as his opportunity to go to her.

He plops down beside her and she immediately turns and crawls into his arms. He hears her sniffle a bit, and he rubs his hand up and down her back until she calms.

"What happened?" He asks into her hair.

"I messed up."

"You threw him against the mirror?"

"Yes. Because I'm an idiot."

He uses his hand to lift her chin. He won't let her hide from this conversation.

"Beckett."

She looks up at him with watery eyes. "He played me. He knew I was talking about my mom, and he played me. "

He runs the back of his fingers down her cheek. "I have a suggestion."

"You think I should give this up."

"No. I would never ask that of you." He pauses. "I just want you to let me be a part of this."

She puts her face back into his chest and let's out a muffled but pained, "I can't."

"Why? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I can't let you get hurt. Especially now. I'm sorry."

Before he can respond, a pounding sound comes from the closed gym door. "Beckett!" Montgomery's voice rings through the wood. "My office. Now."

"I have to go." She gets up out of his embrace and grabs her bag before leaving.

Castle just sits there, running her words over and over again in his head.

 _Especially now. Especially. Now._ What does that even mean?


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey, everyone. Sorry for the lateness of this. My computer died, and I had to get a new one, and it took a while to get all my stuff transferred over. So, thanks for your patience, and thank you all so much for your support of this story.**

 **In response to some of the comments I got on the last chapter, I actually had outlined/half written Chapter 12 before I saw 'XX', so any similarities were not intentional. I think that the way Kate is acting in Season 8 is the same way that she would have acted about her mother's case in earlier seasons (i.e. the timeline of my story), so that is probably where the similarities come from, but it's important to remember that my story is not set in Season 8, and Kate reacting this way is fairly plausable (in my opinion, but you are absolutely entitled to disagree).**

* * *

He goes back home deflated, his previous bravado bullied into the corner by Beckett's dismissal. The headache that was churning earlier has finally exploded into reality, and these two things combined make him want to crawl into his bed and pull the covers over his head like he did when he was ten.

Unfortunately, when he opens the door to his apartment, he is greeted by the smell of his mother's cooking. He knows that she will notice his mood and pull out whatever is bothering him. His feet quietly pad through the living room, hoping that he can make it to his room without the dame of the Great White Way noticing.

"Richard?"

Ah damn. Well, worth a shot. "Yes, mother?"

"Come here, come here." She flaps her hands like an adolescent bird on its first attempt at flight. "I made dinner."

"I'm pretty tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed."

She walks over to him and grabs his shoulders, turning him so that he'll look at her. "What's the matter, darling?"

He rubs his eyes like a child and sulks. "I don't want to talk about it." He attempts to move again only to be reeled back in by his mother's hand.

"Alexis and I had an interesting conversation when I came home." He winces. His mother must know about he and Beckett too. So much for keeping it a secret. "It was a quite dramatic story, really. So, I would like you to come here," she pulls him over to the dining room table, "sit down, eat some dinner, and tell me what's going on."

He slumps into the chair with a scowl on his face as she brings him a plate and begins serving chicken and rice.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second. Which part shall we start with, hmm? The part where you and Beckett are together, or the part where you're fighting over her mother's case?"

He slumps even further, head in his hands as his mother waits patiently for his response. When she doesn't receive one, she reaches over and pats his arm.

"Darling, I think it's wonderful that you and Beckett are dating." He groans and looks up.

"It's not so wonderful right now."

"Well, are you surprised?"

He looks at his mother with wide eyes, confusion and a little bit of anger emanating from his gaze. "What does that mean?"

"It's her mother's case. Did you expect a rational reaction from her?"

"Yes. Well, no. I don't know. But I expected to be in this with her. I didn't think she'd go off alone."

"Did you ask her why?"

"She said she couldn't let me get hurt, especially now. Whatever that means."

"Things _have_ changed considerably since you last worked a case with her."

"Just because we're together, doesn't mean I can't work a case with her ever again."

Martha laughs at him, a light, airy chuckle that has his confusion back in force.

"This is not just any case. This is her mother's case. She's been fighting this battle alone since she was nineteen. She knows the dangers, and she knows the stakes."

"Exactly. She knows how deeply this affects her, and she knows about what it's like to dive back down the rabbit hole. Why would she let herself do that alone?"

"Darling, she cares about you. If you were involved in something dangerous, would you ever want to bring her along?"

His insides war with him. Of course he would _want_ to bring her along. He can't imagine doing anything, especially something so important, without her. But the other side of him, the instinctual, testosterone driven need that she would most certainly put him in his place for, tells him that he would absolutely never put her in harms way, no matter how much he would want her there. He couldn't.

Understanding shines in his eyes, and his mother smiles at him.

"No. I couldn't bring her with me if I was doing something dangerous. I would want to, but I couldn't."

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact that your eyesight is still not one hundred percent."

"I'm a liability."

"No, dear. She just wants you to get better. Plain and simple."

He breaks eye contact with her for a moment to think.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

She grabs his hand in hers. "No. You're both idiots."

He laughs, a buoyant chuckle that floats out of his throat. "We are."

"You love her. She loves you. And you're both just trying to take care of each other," she says.

"But what if the need to take care of each other pulls us apart."

"That's the struggle, kiddo. No one said love was easy."

* * *

She is sprawled out on the couch in her apartment. A tear slowly slides down her face, and she wipes it with her fist like a child.

She doesn't know why she's so upset by this. It's not like she didn't expect to be kicked off the case. You can't slam a suspect through the mirror without a few repercussions. So, when Montgomery called her to his office and told her she was through, the news shouldn't have hit her like a bowling ball to the stomach.

But it's her mother's case, and she's never had any self-control when it comes to this.

And Castle.

Another tear slides down her face at the thought of him. She may have ruined their relationship already, and it's still so new. Her fingers wipe again at the tears that won't stop falling. Stupid. She's so stupid.

The worst part is that she can't help but think she wouldn't have done anything different if she had the opportunity.

She would do anything to protect him. It's not a decision so much as something innate and uncontrollable. Once he's better, or as good as he can be, they can figure out what his role will be at the twelfth. For now though, she's not taking any chances. She will not allow anything about him, body or soul, to be marred by this obsession that she can't get rid of. He's the one pure thing in her life, and she's not going to ruin this with her darkness, too.

She stares, unseeing into her apartment. Is she being selfish?

By keeping him, by allowing her darkness to spill over into his innocence and happiness, is she ruining him?

He's better off without her.

A fresh batch of tears runs down her face at the thought. That's the truth of it, really. Darkness has followed her since that fateful night in January, had been her only companion for years while her father drowned himself in the bottle.

When she pulled herself out of the rabbit hole and her father out of addiction, she found that darkness, her ever-present companion, had left her. The idea had shattered her more than anything else, with the exception of her mother's death. Since then, she'll admit to having sought out darkness from time to time. Walking down questionable alleys at night, volunteering to go blind into seedy clubs for vice, riding a little too fast on her soft tail.

She's wired to seek out darkness, and she can't be the person who brings that into his life anymore.

Resolve steels in her eyes. She wipes the last of her tears and stands, grabbing her keys before walking out the door.

* * *

She walks slowly down the hallway to the loft, her legs disobeying the order that her brain is giving them. She should just be able to walk up to his door. Just walk to the door and say it.

No matter how much she tries, she can't get her legs to move any faster. Instead of speeding up she slows to a stop and leans against the wall. Come on. You can do this _. It's for the best._

She finally forces her feet to move when the door to the loft opens, and Castle walks out.

"Beckett?" She stands there wide-eyed. "I was just coming to see you."

"Me too," she says quietly. He chuckles a little at her obvious statement, but he notices that she isn't joking.

"Wanna come in?"

She looks up at him and nods. He leads her into the loft and leaves her in the entryway, assuming that she will follow. He turns when he realizes she is still standing like a lone tower, silent near the door.

"Kate?"

She meets his eyes finally, and he can see that she isn't totally present. He walks slowly over to her and grabs her hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just…" The breath she exhales is shaky and unnerving to him. "I think…"

She can't get the words out no matter how hard she tries. He tries to tug her to the couch, but she can't let it get that far. She can't stay too long or she will change her mind, and she can't do that.

"I can't do this." He stops pulling at her words.

"Can't do what?"

"I think we should break up." He drops her hand as if it had scalded him.

"What?" She has never heard his voice so hardened before, and it scares her.

"I don't think we should be together anymore."

He runs his fingers across his scruff. He looks as if he's thinking about sitting, but he doesn't. It strikes her that he's afraid she'll leave. That he needs to be close to grab her just in case. And it's warranted, isn't it? All she can think about right now is leaving and crying in peace.

"Why?" It comes out broken and tear-filled, and it causes her own tears to spill over. "What did I do?"

She steps closer to him then, his pain a siren call to her that she can't help but answer. "No. Not you, Rick."

"Then what? Why are you doing this to us?"

She looks up into his eyes, and she can't help but spill out the truth. "Because I'm bad for you."

He lets out a pained noise, a quiet "no" lying underneath. She just nods as a tear makes its way down her face. She wipes it, thinking back to the last time she had cried as much as she did in this week and coming up unsuccessful.

"I am. I'm reckless, and I can't help but jump into the darkness when it calls. I can't bring you into that anymore. It's not fair to you."

Nearly the minute the words are out of her mouth, he steps forward, grabs her by the face and places a bruising kiss on her lips. She holds on to his shoulders as he practically bends her backwards with the force of his kiss.

"No, _this_ isn't fair to me. You don't just get to end this without giving me a chance." Their noses are still touching, and the air from every word he says fans out over her lips.

"Castle, please."

"No. I will not just let you martyr yourself again, because you think you don't deserve me. You deserve everything."

"I don't," she whispers.

"You do. And I don't know what made you think otherwise."

She squeezes his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as if it would also harden her resolve. She shakes her head.

"I'm poisoning your life."

"You're making it better. You're making it so much better. What brought this on, Kate?"

She steps back from his embrace, but leaves her hand on his chest over his heartbeat. She feels it, matching hers in its rushed and uneven pattern. "My mother's case. I can't let it go."

"You've already warned me, and I told you that I'd be with you. That I'd do this with you."

"Exactly. I can't let you do that. I'm going to get you killed." She lets out a quiet sob that surprises both of them. "Don't ruin your life over me."

He pulls her to him again so that her ear is now sitting where her hand was before. She listens to his heart beat. She can almost hear its cries and pleas for her to stay.

"Kate Beckett, my life would be ruined without you. I'm with you, always. You leave me right now, and I'll still follow you. I promised you that. So all breaking up does is hurt us both."

She rubs her face against his shirt and whines in frustration.

"This doesn't feel like a compromise."

"Of course not. I refuse to compromise on this, unless you can give me an actual reason we shouldn't be together. There's nothing to compromise on when we both want the same things."

She lifts her face to look him in the eye. "Castle."

He looks right back. "Beckett."

They face off for a moment before she relents, leaning back into his chest.

"I hate you," she mumbles.

"Shouldn't I be saying that? I mean, you tried to break up with me."

She pokes him in the side and he squirms away, but she soothes it with a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I'm sorry. It felt like the only way." She pauses for a moment. "I still don't feel good about this, Castle."

"You don't have to right now. I'll help you through it."

"Right. Together."

He nods. "Together."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Thank you for your lovely comments. Just one more chapter after this!**

 **I have another story mostly written, but I'm probably going to take a break from fanfic, because I'm participating in NaNoWriMo for the first time. I've never written 50,000 words of anything before (including my 110 page screenplay), so I want to make sure I can devote my time to that. Thanks again for your support!**

 **I wrote this last night and edited it early this morning, so I apolgize for any mistakes. If you spot one, let me know! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

After their emotional conversation, they're both exhausted. He ushers her into his bedroom, and they go about their nightly routines, eventually meeting back in the bedroom. They slide under the cool sheets, meeting in the middle and falling asleep to each other's heartbeats.

The two wake to the sunshine coming in through the blinds, Castle groaning that it is too early to be conscious. She laughs and plants a kiss on him that soon turns passionate. His hand is making its way up her ribcage when they hear his mother's laughter from the kitchen.

He separates from her lips and groans. She laughs again at his drama and runs her hand through his hair.

"Come on. Let's get some breakfast."

Alexis spots them first as they exit the bedroom, barely listening as Martha continues a long winded story about a trip she took with the cast of Pygmalion. Her eyes meet Beckett's first, and then her father's.

"Gram."

Martha halts her story and looks to Alexis. When her eyes reach the couple emerging from the bedroom, she lets out a noise of excitement that has everyone in the room cringing.

"Oh, Kate! It's so good to see you!" She prances over and pulls the detective in for a bone crushing hug that has her eyeballs nearly bursting from their sockets. She pulls back finally and looks Kate in the eye. "You two work everything out?"

Beckett blushes and looks back at Castle before muttering a quiet, "Yeah."

Martha brings her back in for another hug, gentler this time, and Kate closes her eyes at the embrace. It's been so long since she's had a hug like this one, motherly and filled with love. Martha steps back and pinches her cheeks a bit as Kate beams at her.

"I'm so happy for you," Martha says.

"Thank you, Martha." Kate reaches back for Castle's hand and he takes it, giving a quick squeeze. Their eyes meet, and they are entranced with each other.

"All right, lovebirds. I'm going to go make us all a special breakfast in celebration." And with that, she flutters away and into the kitchen.

Her words cause them to blush and unclasp their hands. He rolls his eyes at his mother and giving Beckett a quick kiss on her hairline. In the midst of all of the hugs and congratulations, everyone had forgotten about Alexis, who made her presence known by the slam of her door at the top of the steps.

Beckett winces at the sound, knowing that it's mostly her fault. Castle must see, because he plants a sweet kiss on her lips before whispering, "You make sure my mother doesn't burn the food, I'll go talk to her."

* * *

He knocks on the door lightly and opens it a crack. "Hey, pumpkin."

She's sitting on her bed with a book in her lap, ignoring him. He comes in anyway and sits at the foot of her bed, staring at her until she caves. Eventually, she glances up at him and rolls her eyes. The book is placed upside down but open on the bed, as if this will be a quick conversation.

"What?"

"You've been doing a lot of door slamming lately."

"Must be the teenager in me finally peeking through. Sorry to disappoint."

"Alexis-"

"No, save it. I get it, you love her." She says it with such disdain that her feeling almost becomes physical. It's a dark, sludgy creature wreaking havoc on both of their hearts.

"I do, but that doesn't mean I love you any less."

She looks up at him with antipathy only a teenager can emote. "I didn't think you did."

"Then what is this about?"

She looks away, unwilling or unable to say what she's truly thinking.

"Alexis, loving someone isn't a bad thing."

"It is if you love her more than you love yourself," she blurts finally, the words shooting out of her and hitting him like a fireball to the chest. After the first sentence was released, the rest come tumbling out. "You put her up on this pedestal, like you don't deserve her. Like she's some goddess that has somehow stooped low enough to be with a mere human. She doesn't deserve _you_ , Dad. She plays with your heart like it's nothing, and you are killing yourself just to keep her. Maybe she can't be kept."

A knock on the door shatters the silence that permeates the space after Alexis's outburst. Beckett peeks her head in and quietly mutters, "Breakfast is ready," before closing the door behind her.

Rick closes his eyes in pain. Pain at what his daughter said, pain at Beckett hearing it. Just pain. He stands and heads for the door. As he opens it, he murmurs, "You coming?"

"I'm not hungry," Alexis says, nose already back in her book. He doesn't argue. As much as he loves her, he doesn't particularly like his daughter very much right now. It's probably for the best that she doesn't come down.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, he sees Beckett waiting for him at the bottom. He steps carefully, his eyesight still too poor to clearly see his feet, and finally makes it to the first floor. As he gets closer, he notices she has her jacket and shoes on with her keys in hand.

"Are you going somewhere?"

She looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I'm going to go home. I think that it's not the best time for me to be here right now."

"Kate." He grabs her lightly by the shoulders, as if to keep her from going anywhere.

"I'm not running. I just don't want to make your daughter uncomfortable in her own home."

"She'll be fine, Beckett. She just needs some time to get used to this, and she never will if you aren't here."

She runs her hand over his jaw, which is starting to grow into a full blown beard after four days without shaving.

"This is just for now. I promise."

He stares at her a moment before coming to a decision. "Wait here."

"Castle."

He ignores her plea and walks over to the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss to his mother's cheek. "Mother, Beckett and I have to take breakfast to go."

"What? You aren't staying?"

"Something came up. We'll all have breakfast together another time." He grabs a plate of food, throwing, "Make sure Alexis eats," behind him as he ushers Kate out the door.

* * *

When they get to her apartment, she unlocks the door quietly. He immediately moves to her kitchen and begins plating the waffles and fruit his mother had given them.

They eat quietly on her couch, both a little roughed up from the events of the morning.

"About what your daughter said…"

"We've had this conversation. I don't agree with her, Kate. I don't even think she means what she said. She's just… being a teenager."

She huffs out a laugh. "Yeah. I know what that's like." She turns into him and curls up against his side. "I just want you to know that you can come to me if you ever start feeling like you're putting in more effort than I am. I'm not the most open person, and sometimes I forget that you don't always know what I'm thinking."

He rubs his hand down her back.

"I just want us to be equals in this," she finishes.

"We are. I don't doubt you, Kate. Okay?"

"Okay." She lays her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. He leans over and places a light kiss on the top of her head. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable, and his foot knocks into a small box on the coffee table.

He nudges it again. "What's this?"

She opens her eyes to see what he's talking about. "Oh. It's a box of my mother's things... Would you like to see?"

His eyes light up like a kid at Christmas. "Of course!"

They dig through the box for a while, laughing at old photos and knickknacks that her mother saved. He flips through some pictures of her lacing up her ice skates.

"Aww, I don't get to see you in action?"

"Trust me, Castle, it wasn't pretty."

He nudges his shoulder against hers. "Oh, now I have to see it." He looks through the negatives. "Hmm."

"What?" He leans over to show her the negatives.

"There's twenty-four exposures on this roll, but there's only twenty pictures."

They move to her computer to digitally transfer the negatives. The first picture pops up. It's just an alley.

"What is it?" She asks as she walks over.

"An empty street?"

"Castle, this is where my mom was murdered." She looks over at him. "I don't understand. I mean, these pictures were developed a week before she was killed."

He looks back to the pictures of the alley. "Why would she be taking photos of that alley?"

She bites her thumbnail, her brows furrowed. "I don't know. I always thought it was just a convenient place for the killer to attack. I mean, it was dark, it was secluded…"

"What if there was more to it than that? What if she was looking into something that happened in that alley when they killed her?"

"Well, I'd have to go into the old archives and reports, and Captain Montgomery won't let me back in the precinct right now."

"I'll go," he says.

"Castle, I doubt that you would be allowed back if I'm not."

"It's fine. I'll bring everyone lunch, excuse myself to go to the restroom, and sneak down to check the files. Piece of cake."

She thinks for a moment, still uncertain about his plan.

"Come on, Beckett. What's the worst that could happen if I get caught?"

* * *

Castle's ruse doesn't go quite according to plan. Montgomery catches him in the archives and banishes him from the precinct. He doesn't have the heart to go back to Beckett and tell her he was caught, so he goes home and showers quickly. He had hoped to speak with his daughter a little bit more, but she must have gone to class.

Finally, with nothing else to distract him, he heads back to Beckett's. When she opens the door with her gun in her hand, he knows the jig is up.

"You talk to Montgomery?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He enters the apartment apology on his tongue when she speaks. "What did you find?"

He explains about Bob Armen's murder and Pulgatti's arrest, and the two go down to the prison to meet him. She can't say she's shocked to hear of Raglan's involvement in her mother's murder. She knows of too many cops who abuse the badge and go down a bad path.

While they're talking to McCallister, she has to give Castle a squeeze on the wrist to keep him in check. He practically spits at the retired cop when he implies that kidnapping people for ransom was _right_.

They go back to the precinct, Montgomery finally allowing them back into the investigation. When they get the hit on the two Jolenes, Beckett steps aside and lets Ryan, Esposito, and another team of officers check out their apartments, knowing that Castle's eyesight is not improved enough to do this kind of field work. He tries to convince her to go without him, but she refuses.

He's her partner, and they go together or not at all.

They're playing tic-tac-toe at her desk when she gets the call from Montgomery. Ryan and Esposito have been captured.

* * *

Montgomery, a couple officers, and the two partners sit in the front of a surveillance van. The van is a street over, and tech has tapped into the street cameras to give them a clear view of the large man guarding the door to Lockwood's lair.

"That guy is gonna spot a SWAT team from a mile away," Montgomery says. "Any ideas?"

"I have one," Castle pipes up from the back.

"Castle, no. We are not going out there."

"Do we have any other choice. The more we sit here coming up with a plan, the more likely Ryan and Esposito are dead."

They have a stare off, conversing with their eyes in a way that always confounded the other detectives.

"Fine," she finally says, and the two exit the van.

They stumble down the block like a drunk couple in love as Montgomery and his team watch from the van.

The lookout steps down and starts walking towards them. "He's not buying it, Castle." The lookout reaches for his gun, and Beckett is about to grab hers when Castle grabs her face and kisses her. It's one of the most passionate kisses she has ever received, and she forgets what their mission is for a moment, letting out a small moan in the process.

She hears the lookout laugh and opens her eyes quick enough to see him turn his back. She turns out of the kiss and knocks the man out with the butt of her gun.

They're both panting heavily, their breaths tumbling out into the cold night air.

"That was amazing." She turns to him with a smile before turning back and entering the warehouse.

* * *

She finds him in the ambulance later, after Ryan and Esposito have been rescued, fussing with the bandage on his hand. She unwraps it for him, fixing it so that it isn't as tight around his palm. "Thank you. For having my back in there."

"Always."

They stare at each other lovingly until the spell is broken by Montgomery. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"Let us back into the precinct, because we are essential to solving cases?" Castle asks.

Montgomery gives him a look. "You sure gave the boys in the truck a show back there."

"Well, you know. Anything to get the boys back, sir," Beckett says.

He looks between the two, hoping that they'll wither under his stare and tell him the truth. Unfortunately for him, the partners don't break.

He steps closer and brings his voice down to an almost whisper. "Whatever you two do outside of work is your own business, but don't bring it into my precinct. You hear me?"

He doesn't wait for a response, walking back to the ambulance housing a cold, humiliated Ryan and Esposito.

"Did he just… give us permission?" Castle asks.

"I think he just might have."

* * *

They enter the loft quietly in case the one or both of the redheads are sleeping, but they find Alexis sitting at the kitchen bar. She has her headphones in, so she lets out a squeal when Castle comes up behind her and gives her a crushing hug.

"Dad!" She whirls around, the smile dropping off of her face when she sees Beckett several feet behind him. It gives her a little bit of sick satisfaction that the detective looks uncomfortable.

"Hey. How was school today?"

"It was good."

"Great." He kisses her on the crown of her head. "I'm going to go put some comfier clothes on." And with that, he disappears into his bedroom.

The two girls stare at each other for a moment before Alexis turns back around and puts her headphones in.

Beckett sighs. It's now or never.

She sidles up to Alexis who catches her out of the corner of her eye. She removes her headphones and turns to the detective.

"Alexis, can we talk?"

Alexis shrugs and she takes that as a yes, grabbing a seat next to her at the bar.

"I know that you don't like that your dad and I are… together." Alexis goes to shake her head but Beckett stops her. "It's okay. You don't have to lie. I heard what you said upstairs."

"I'm sorry, Detective Beckett, I-"

"No, please. Don't apologize. You are entitled to feel the way you feel." She brushes her hair behind her ear to buy herself some time.

"I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me, not with your father and not with your family, but I want you to know how much I honestly love him. I'm in love with him." She stops for a moment, relishing in the feeling of finally telling another person. "We may not be the best for each other all the time, but I do know that we are worse apart."

Alexis doesn't say anything. She just nods for the detective to continue.

"My father has been my only parent for a long time now, and I know what it's like to want to protect him." Alexis blushes and turns away a bit. "So, I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that he is okay. I can't say that we won't be put in dangerous situations, but I can promise that I will do my best to keep him safe…" She takes a deep breath. "Losing him would wreck me too."

The girl finally meets her eyes for the first time since that morning. "Thank you, Detective."

She places a hand on the girl's arm. "Please. It's Kate." Alexis nods.

"If you ever want to talk about this… or anything. I'm here." With that, she leaves the girl to her music and homework and goes to find Castle in his bedroom.

As she reaches the threshold, she is pulled through the doorway and into his arms. "You're amazing, you know that?" He says into her skin, placing a kiss in the crease of her neck.

"You heard?"

He pulls back to look at her. "I may have been eavesdropping." He shrugs, and his bangs flop over his eyes like a little boy. She brushes them away.

"Of course you were." She runs her pointer finger down the slope of his nose, rubs her thumb across his cheekbone. "We're going to be okay, Castle. It's all going to be okay."

"Okay?" He kisses her, putting as much love as he can into it before pulling back. "We're going to be extraordinary."


	15. Chapter 15

"All right, Mr. Castle. How do they feel?" Rick looks around the room, eyes adorned with a pair of square frames.

"Not bad, doc. Not bad. How do I look?" He turns to Beckett who tries to keep from smiling.

"Well, they'll make you look a little smarter." She grins at him and he gives her a playful glare.

"They might give you a little bit of a headache at first, but wear them long enough and you'll get used to it," the doctor says.

They both shake the doctor's hand as they leave the clinic. Rick's vision isn't perfect, and he'll need glasses for the rest of his life, but considering the alternative, he can get used to his new specs.

They decide to walk back to the precinct, enjoying the beautiful day they've been presented with. They stroll hand in hand down the street, Kate giving him a playful squeeze when he looks over at her and wiggles his eyebrows. She laughs and leans into his shoulder.

She took the morning off, so they have time to stop at their favorite coffee shop before heading back to work. He nudges her away when they get inside, and she goes to find them some seats while he grabs the coffee.

Luckily, their favorite seats are unoccupied today, and she sinks into the plush red armchair. _What a week,_ she thinks. Nearly seven days ago, their lives were completely different, and it's difficult for her to fathom the progress they've made. Last week, they were dancing around each other, not saying how they really felt, because they were to scared. Hell, she was with a different man until a few days ago, all because she was too afraid to look inside herself and discover how she truly felt about Castle.

She watches him now as he directs the barista on something, and she can't help but smile. He's such a beautiful person. She's not sure how he would feel about being called beautiful, but it's just true. Physically, yes. His broad shoulders, sharp jaw, and strong legs make him eye candy for any passersby. But it's his heart that makes him beautiful to her. He's so loving and happy despite the hardships she knows he's been through. Instead of allowing life to harden him, he lets it slip off his back and continues believing in the universe.

They're perfect for each other. She blushes at such a cheesy thought, but it's true. She brings him down to earth, and he pulls her up for air. He wasn't wrong when he said that Yin needs Yang. She was too similar to Will and to Demming and to Josh. They never brought her any joy outside of the regular physical attraction. They didn't push her to be better or to let go. They didn't make sure that she meant it when she said she was fine. She looks up as Castle makes his way over with two small lattes and a big grin on his face. Yes, a beautiful man indeed.

He places the coffee down in front of her, and a laugh bursts from her chest at what is on top. There are two little hearts etched in foam, and one of them is wearing glasses. She looks up at him, unable to disguise the love in her eyes. Love for this man that makes every day a better day for her. She stands before he gets a chance to sit down and pulls him into a passionate kiss. It's short. She doesn't want to give a show to the group of teenagers sitting near the windows, but she just needs to show him how in love she is with him in this moment. In all moments.

They break away, and his eyes are as wide as saucers. She laughs at the bug-eyed look and sits back down in her chair. He sits as well, but he still hasn't recovered from the kiss. Damn, she's good. She takes a picture of the little hearts before picking up the coffee and taking a sip. She'll put it as her lock screen wallpaper later for him to find.

When he finally comes to, she gives him another smile. "How're you feeling?"

"After that, better than ever," he says, and she lightly kicks his shin with the toe of her boot.

"Seriously."

"My head is starting to hurt a little, but it's so worth it to finally be able to see clearly." She reaches over and grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I'm glad. I was so worried, Castle." He picks up their joined hands and places a kiss to the back of hers.

"I know, but it's fine now. It's great."

"It's perfect," she says with a smile. Any other man would call her out on another cheesy thought, but he just smiles and nods. Yes, perfect.

They finish their lattes and make their way back to the precinct, only stopping once for donuts. Castle is feeling sappy, and he wants to bring his friends at the twelfth something nice. They ride up the elevator in silence, hands still clasped as Castle balances the boxes of donuts in his other.

When they reach the homicide floor, Ryan and Esposito are already back working diligently at their desks. They look over when they hear the elevator ding and Castle and Beckett walk out. There's a lot of back-slapping and fist bumping as Castle distributes the donuts. Even though her boys were roughed up, Ryan's face still a little splotchy from the ice bath, they celebrate Castle's first day back at work instead. She's feeling irrationally emotional in this moment, but she can't help it. She loves how much her team loves each other, how they have each other's backs.

Castle's eyes meet hers, and he gives a little smirk as if he knows what she is thinking. He holds up a French Cruller for her, and she moves to be a part of the group, finally. She grabs the donut from him and places a quick, sweet kiss on his lips before taking a bite out of her donut. No one else seems to have seen it but the boys, whose mouths are hanging wide open.

"What the-"

"Are you…?"

They speak at the same time, and Beckett grins at their surprise. She shares a look with Castle who gives her a go ahead gesture.

"Yes, guys. We're together."

Ryan brings Castle into another back slapping hug, and Esposito lets out what can only be called a squeal that he will most certainly deny later, before hugging Beckett as well. When the hugs are all over, she looks back to Castle, who beams at her.

"Okay, ew," Esposito says.

"Yeah, we're happy for you an all, but if you could keep the PDA to a minimum, that would be great," Ryan says, before they both turn back to their desks.

"Like watchin' your parents kiss, ugh," Esposito mumbles as he sits down.

Castle bumps Beckett's shoulder, and they share a quiet laugh before sitting down in their prospective chairs.

Luckily for her, and maybe not so luckily for Castle, the day is slow. She's glad that there's no take downs necessary on his first day with glasses, but he was ready to get out in the action.

Instead, she finds them in a similar position as last Wednesday, before all of this madness took place. He's making a longer paperclip chain now that she's finally restocked her stash, and she's working on paperwork. Except this time, the day will end quietly, and she will go home with him instead of going back to her empty apartment. They'll make love all night long, and wake in the morning in each other's arms.

With that in mind, she signs her last form with a flourish, and looks to her partner. He's noticed the finality with which she signed the paper and is now looking at her expectantly.

"Ready to go?"

She smiles at him. "So much."

They arrive to an empty loft, of which they are extremely grateful. She turns to him as he closes the door behind them and pulls him into a soft kiss.

"What was that for?" He whispers in the air between them once they part.

"Just cause I can." He smiles at that and leans in to kiss her again. The kiss becomes heated, and before she knows it, he's walked them backwards into his office. She spins them around and pushes him into his desk chair. She climbs into the chair with him, knees on either side of his thighs and kisses him again.

"The glasses are really doing it for you, huh?" He mumbles in between kisses.

She pulls back and looks at him in the eye. "You have no idea." She moves her kisses along his cheekbone to his jaw, and he runs his hand up and down her back.

He preens at her statement. "You think I'm sexy."

She stops kissing him for favor of holding his face in her hands. "Castle."

"Hmm?"

"Less talking. More kissing."

"Right."

The only thing similar between this day, and the same day a week ago is the way it ended. Not with a fizzle, but with a bang.

* * *

A/N: That's it! I want to say thank you so much to everyone that liked, followed, favorited, reviewed, and just read my story in general. This is the longest story I've ever written, and it was my first fanfiction. I'm excited to work on some new stuff now, but I'm also sad to see this go. Special thanks to those who consistently commented and reviewed. I never individually thanked you, but know that I noticed and it's super appreciated. On to the next story!


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